Dangerous; the laden movement of The Dark.
A fading twilight on the Confident Hoax
controlled (by the fear of meaning
mistaken by a sadist’s vision
and patroned by the wooden sword)
if this is called heaven, a home, a reprieve
respectfully leave me with my own make believe
staking claim with a sleeve for the season
a vernacular of lies to reinforce reason
perhaps this is the answer to your self-indulgent matter?
Calling you to walk away; the game of snakes & ladder.
Echoes of shade
echoes of shadow
does choice even matter...
Who are we to draw the line, confined to a margin?
Who are we to control life with mere thoughts of option?
Who are we to know who we are, to be ready or ready or not?
To seethe & sew with ebb & flow, disaffected and vulnerable.
Perhaps this is the answer to your self-indulgent matter?
Calling you to walk away; the game of ladder & snake.
whose fate is to flatter
you’ve got my interrogation circled in red on your memory sheet
remind yourself who’s in control
leave it blank for another day
when the waves come for your perfect way
who are we to desecrate? To change the tides of time?
Who are we to defy fate? To thread the needles eye?
Who are we but the hands of gods with the free will of a weekly wage?
To breathe & grow outside the know, dialectically realigned