For Love of Men

As time slowly turns and bends and winds,
I am become more and more like wine.
It is as if I am here just to ferment.
I cannot even express, but I bet

First I grew like a grape on the vine
Sunshine, sunshine.
I was plucked with the bunch in my prime
Soon to be mashed and stomped underfoot,

Remove the pulp from the juice.
The self to refine
In a dangerous process,
Pushed me close to life.

And on the edges of death
I would balance my breath
Against dawn's banner beckoning
And the sifting tides of Mem.

Mother letter, give me sweet death
One last caress, I'm waiting for your breath.

I felt the faintest whisper
(Aleph, Heh, Mem)
Against the callous hands of men,
Legs crossed like the hanged man.

Shifting sands, a paupers sense
Has merely told me what I'm holding,
Light abounds inside this breast;
The stuff of stars

Pouring,
Invasive.

The mask held up,
The prison's jest.

I grew up
On children's stories,

For love of craft
And love of men

I see no difference,
One is likened to the next.

Now patience grows up
Each year morphing,

Slowly time it turns and bends.
Proteus forming

While I ferment.
Yod Heh Aleph Mem,

All glory.