This last deception rooted plays
Upon a new design
And set to deign on vile ways
Of those who sit to mime
They crave and reign on duped delight
And cringe on purest creeds
To file within a nauseous taunt
And sway like rotten weeds
When tireless hunters crave their prey
They do what comes in teach
To slay what little good becomes
The efforts for their reach
But in this foreplay rest foregoes
Their lairs of darkness deep within
And find the evercrusting foes
Of liars’ pools and craving win
And when in dawn awakens light
And masks of skin and bone retreat
Will terror of a righteous hand
cause tepid pulse to pause in beat
Their minutes run in wayward course
To patch a tear with grass and air
For in a mend that lacks remorse
Will open wounds cease true repair
-j.m.
