the stoic-denied ties that grind
Normal requisitioned
a fairer vision be lent
Undo the undid
Coriolanus belligerently
sent on his
parasympathetic allotment of
what you'd gotten in
Yeats your peregrine falcon
has bought into retrograde
Chagrinful now he looks at you
What Would W.B. Do?
Blade now stained to hilt
Holding center in it's mouth.
Wasteland the home now to hollow men
In the holar' nestled-in
Hollerin' bout what coulda been
If men were g-d
and g-d not him.
We can never un-know the furrowed brow
Before lowing mingled blood and time
drains your world of here and now.
We hold to truth, consciousness kin to holy
Yet consciousness-less never lies
is never lonely.
so i await you there
for-ever cleansed
by negated clarity
in that crisp rare
air
of just aint there
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