Sabine
A subpoena
I send to you Sabine
To the Court of Birds
that see no frowns of malice
nor recognise the curl of the lip
The defence that must fall
from your patched Tongue
skewered and faltering
will no doubt wilt
in the Misery of that injustice
where you glance and
Judgment be made
Cursed is your nature
Your drowsy lids poisoning
the Strangers that grace lowly beings
Your kohl sinks your eyes
into the putrid swamps
that belongs your soul
The oceanic conch rolls
removed of its Creature
in sandy depths
An empty vessel
hollow of mind
wanting of Master
gasping, grasping for silvery clay
the Agar.
devoid of Conscience, removed of mine
Copyright © Paradoxon Mercuriale | Year Posted 2021
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