Taking your time over a barbed wire embrace

Unable to wipe the smile from your face

I will not sympathise

With a look born beneath thunderstorm eyes

Between the here and now and the hill

The Palace of the Meek is darkened and is still

Witness the dead rats approaching, snakes

Here in heart, here in wilderness

I must find me and I as well

Despite assassins

That haunt me along with the ghosts

Of the Gods and the Legends

I shall not return

To the comforting stable of bliss

Panacea

Lemon yellow and deep in thought

That’s where I know I’ll be caught

Must I climb the hill

To reach a prophet, false witness

Only to find your ego

And your sex is but a fortress

This is but the sound of unending entrance

At your beaten and bruised door

Time, lustful monster that calls

As it scales like tension

Along your reddened walls

Only I must beg

And steal

And tear

And commit heresy to a snake

To the one

The thief

Who chooses sooner

Take him by the hand and attract a crowd

Expose him atop the hill, don’t look down

The thieves and the heretics

The poets and the prophecies

For now is the time in the prison

Run to the water

Look upon the face bore in the falling rain

The barricades are broken

The fortress is torn

The thieves and the heretics

The poets and their prophecies

For now is the time.