spirit

through the valleys dark.
the shadows hide all success.
glimpse at brighter days.

my resignation.
take me to my golgotha.
i’m done with fighting.

the volume of life.
like the inside of a sphere.
measure of a man.

the gloaming and roaming over the loam.
picking at the crusts of the day.
the dry hours crispy and burnt.
the day another leathery tail to the whip.

the sun bloodied up against the horizon.
the last breaths of a lost battle hard fought.

the night watchmen with their inky paint.
sprinkle zirconium against the purple haze.
watch us kneel and follow our gaze.
the prayers of twig men catch in throats.

flop like dying fish caught at night’s moat.
the singing moon a mute eyeless orb.
the prickly stars blinking yawn.
the darkening blue canvas sinking black.

so much can be said for the night ethereal.
so much can be dead by the noctis funeral.

hide behind the breath of time.
hang to the ragged cloth for doing the crime.
watch the night men mime sublime.
bend on knee and pray for day.

huddle in the puddle of your own bile.
for to live is vile but death will not be defiled.

twenty six miles fought.
years of dreams bloodied closure.
race for justice starts.

floating on quavers.
quivering in bubbly sound.
warmth washes over.