Come inside
me and explore god of
fire burning the world.

A miracle was
not the answer. The pathless
trek ends in water.

To live or not
to live like light
in eyes of moon.

He was betrayed
In the end
By the Gods of his youth
His prophecy
Ended
By the only deities he knew
Parents
The infant's almighty
The Gods of small children
Hanging like
The mobile of life
Over them
It is all they born to
But
Bruised fists floated
Like angry storm clouds
Over Seas of battered emotions
Sweet red lips
Buttered with coated  lies
Whispered
And Whispered
Into the wind
And in the end
He was left all alone
And on his own cross
Was forsaken
By his God

Still I am looking
at the path, from where you
disappeared.

In void between
living and dead, leaving no
memory to drape.

The dust will recall
the weight of footfalls in
air to bleed stones.

I'm afraid
We're going to isolate
Even further than we are

If we don't get a grip
On this sinking ship
Going down for the third

Being all I, me, mine
Where we spend our time
Inside our solitary rooms

This constant creep of self
Will soon be our death
If we keep humming this crazy tune

Our social butterfly
Has up and died
Cut off in mid-bloom

The once abundant life
Took to flight
With nothing much to do

But to isolate
I'm afraid
Even further than we are

With no flotation devices left
On this sinking ship
Going down for the third