the wall cut away into nothingness
but still I drearily pressed onward
seeking arcane unknowables
with all the fury of imperial thought.
then I saw it – the bas-relief,
glittering on the limestone walls
carved by demented mind and soul;
a form of unsound body peering.
the eyes, an endless multitude
plumbed the depths of my nature
to claw at heart-tendons weak
twisting mind-rivers idly to madness
broken unfelt unfeeling futures
twist amongst the stars and guide
His light, life, and love above us;
the miracle is not knowing.
The blade reaches up
above the rooftops
to dawdle beneath
the clouds and smog
of a vast cityscape.
It hangs above my life
every life by a thread
of thinly woven white
little lies and half-truths
that mill us all to sleep.
Every now and then
I see the people stop
and glance at the blade
with renewed wonder
then start to carry on.
The same people stop
walking to question why
they wander weary streets
beneath the blood-bound
blade; then they forget.