My Work

I am not buried;
why then, can’t I breathe?
Oxygen is brutal,
sun reeks of fear.
Crosses have been carried;
ascended, yet I grieve.
Struggling is futile,
for signs of danger, clear.
Saline is not solitaire;
storm; a different rain.
Clouds, becoming purest air;
how could this be pain?
Conscience has been dealt with;
daydreams haunt the night.
Senses I have felt with,
fail me in this light.
Is the direction?
How much do I take?
Is this my defection,
or reality to make?
With no castled walls to scale,
no fire forbidden.
No dragons disguised in armored mail,
or virgins to stay hidden.
Can’t be war; I see no blood;
where then is the glory?
I will kill and I will love,
as I claim my territory.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A phase in my life...

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