| |
A Poisoned Lance Pounced and Trounced
Surrender your burdens
To the feet of providence
When down and out in gardens
Sweeping seas of indigence
That swamp your every mood
For reasons unknown
Understood and misunderstood under the hood
Worn in low moods known
To trigger bouts of doubts
Brought about by the entry
In dens where malfeasance sprouts
In the spiritual territory
Invaded and broken into pieces
For the umpteenth time
In sorrow slices and hisses
That struggled to climb
Back to the stability and tenacity hitherto believed
To return to shape
Every time the underserved grieved
To raise hair on the nape
Of your red neck in the face of a serpent
Who offered you temporary relief
From aeons spent and misspent
Whose divinity became the thief
You chose to worship in a vain hope
To find succor and comfort
On the sliding slope
That tore your fort and cut avenues from which no further fake support
Could emanate
In real time
To debunk and detonate
The myth whose mime
Left you in tears
Clutching at a straw in the raging storms
That in your soul rejection and dejection injected burdens of fears
Ensconced and entombed in homes
Where you sought succor
But reaped rejection
As your world collapsed at the rancor
That in the end couldn’t spare you the rage of a poisoned lance
Set to pounce
To put an end to your misery
With every virulent ounce that could no longer bounce
Like a yoyo as you succumbed victim the stealth of usury and penury.
Copyright ©
John Sensele
|