perhaps you found your way in
one night as an aftermath of ruin
or maybe through the savages of war
could it be that you entered during communion
along with the holy ghost...
perhaps you were you always there - brewing
within dormant genes hiding; waiting
until the moment your poison began to pour
inflaming dissidents upon the points of union
as the immune armies go awry with twisting riposte
millions of lilliputian hooks, ties and ropes
fastened to every bone joint, muscle and tendon
pulled to stretch taunt against natural kinesis
the inflamed battles of attrition will become a pyrrhic
war
won once the bugles of pain are at once – laid still
the eyes grow blank and darken into shade of hopes
the once athletic body spun; now locked into joints of
mortise and tenon
a sculpture ravaged in silence; pondering the stillness
of the room that is without windows and a closed door
for strength fails the warrior’s will.
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