Your love did not have its freedom
Was constrained in your chest
treated as a soldier,
released only to battle
And so your love made
the love you received  
a casualty of war

your love did not have truth
And was strangled in your throat
Made extortioner
Withheld to barter for power
And so your love made
the love you received
the currency for corrupt affections

I thought I had walked through a portal
But a portal had walked through me.
Not currency for corrupt affections
Nor weaponry on loves battle field
Silence found its voice in my throat
Love found itself in my chest

He gave us free will
and made obedience the key to his kingdom.
Offered unconditional love
with a caveat of repentance
Trust in his plan
is why your prayers go unanswered
Asked that you bear the guilt
for a martyred son he had forsaken
Using our free will
to chase the love of an abandoner
Naming faith an act of love
  in the absence of reciprocity
His act of love, to give us life
robbing worship from our mothers.

It’s a cowards world
Punching out a bravado beat on our apish chests
And a child’s vulnerability inspires only pity
A projectile repulsion of the weaknesses we hide
We’re all at war with ourselves.
Cutting the throats of whole stories, dragging their corpses to the grave and burying our personal hatred there.
Our lives become cemeteries of all the faces carved from us
We ***** elaborate digital monuments to decorate the rotting beneath.
And plant fragrant flowers of borrowed clichés to cover the stench.
And one day we whither, our cells begin their decay
We will meet our exiles in the graveyard of our collective cowardice

If our hearts will abdicate their thrones of fear
And our ruminating minds find rail to guide their runaway trains
Union flows through, life-blood in our ephemeral veins
A communion between our heart and mind, they meet in time
Neither raising fist for the subjugation of the contrary kind.
Herein lies the star-gate
to our liberated state,
Illuminating our eternal fate,
Love.

Fixed star Alphecca
Shines down on a Shepherd,
leading his thousand fat sheep
The sheep are indifferent
To Alphecca’s position
Eyes on the grass at their feet

Gently, my love
When you stay up late combing your mind for pieces of rot
Gently
When you stare into ***** mirrors and scrub yourself raw
Gently
In a brash sea with your periscope on danger
Gently
Riding the crowd in the nose bleeds of opinion
Gently, my love,
Lean into the frisson
Gently with grace
Gently,
My love.
Gently with grace