All Follow My Scythe For It Be the Way

A candle to light A vigil to reminisce Those that have fallen short...or so they think A hand to hold those that seek closure A sweaty palm to relax anxiety Breathing in expectations of how we know the world sees us Breathing out how it never does I stood beside my brother who was of a different background I whipered in his ear " family " He glared at me and inspected my color Smiled reassuringly and said " My sisiter, where have you been?'' I told him Of my trip around the river How I baptized the contradictions Cleansed them of their remorse It was what brought me to you The lady in front of me dropped her bomb And said" No more blood, for the color itself is too loud" She asked me where I had been I told her " To the PeaceMaker, who let me hold his keys it will open all those sealed doors That we bothered not to jiggle the handle, ever seeing that it be unlocked"