The words whispered to him
Condoned choice
Callings are pre-determined
And thus,
Accidentally straying from fate,
Only the old who wrote the book
On beholding the untold
Could aid the escape of our Living Receiver

Behind his absent eyes
Cerebral devices splice
his dreams and memories
Concocting criminal schemes
And fictitious beliefs
Provoking defiance in face of his deficit;
Obscene offences against an act of
salacious pretence
Donning falsified bones on a
Deep black slab of cotton