They Don'T Burn

to set a fire within truth like vomit begins ~ it was never water ~ the rancid drinking and so it was asked " did you put her out? " burning questions remain a once loving story tells horror as a part of god dormant, awakens " did you put her out? " I’m waiting for the morning to ask a question I’ve mourned to ask why a holy father left his children unborn and to return a lost mother from the dead to his home and to honor the demon who said “they don’t burn…their own” we shared in a drink and then they went on from the other worlds to show me ‘human’ " and as the image of god they shall take of her sun in a bank of lies cried one like the voice of a kitten left darken in a shed where death found tears left buried for the sounds of undead " I found a soul in the house of Father David left between pages like she never existed chained to Mother Mary behind gates of St. Joseph and not a beam of light to ensure the notice " they put me out! like the dog… " said SiriuS