Thursday, August 23, 2012

We'll Prefuse

across choppy water
sinking, suddenly
just to let me die
and I want to be free.
a cast iron caption
  like a weight I'm holding
this conscription
    pulling me down
      through the gates

Hell's hounds and a blessing to name
  pulling me down
    lost in my days
A forlorn and proud face
  but my future is festered
No fragrance of grace
  but a polish of sickness
Wax and then wane

Everything in season?
  target to be maimed
a capsized new captain
  prescribed offering

But to convey this distance
  I do not think I will be saved
Atop tall waves sturdily
  a ship will sink or stay
Hope's old wisdom
  will prefuse
    well away.

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