the task awaits
its martyr
lost in the toothless cavity
of those who rant and rave
then take a mountain of words
to their graves...

here lies a man of brave tongue
who wielded nouns
and verbs
like shaka's golden assegai
hurled at the sun...

there lies a woman
whose meter and rhyme
ricochets off pakoraima's peak
filling the amazon with song
as the waracabra sleep
unfazed,
dreaming of blood....

the savage beast's
only fear
is the certainty
and imminence of death...

save your breath
for the hunt
dear comrade,
and your lyrical fury
for the ****

~ P
(#DearComrade)
1/25/2015