Born the son of man
made in his image
losing humanity
following the ways of man
I bet my life
putting it all on black
until the red filtered through
and I became a man.

Being a man is effortless
but being two men is impossible
getting through to men somewhere in between
men mourning every day storming
incapable of sight after being dehumaneyesed
men must come together to make man
palliation for a lifelong abortion.

Vultures perch on my body
saying "we've got a live one here"
devouring my finger off the pulse
their tasteless tongues
receive no sustenance
from the known nothingness
of the cycle of life.

The price of membership is dismemberment
paid for with pieces
that are swallowed whole by the hole
man puts in his head
donning the cloak of fatherhood
concealing the void while claiming purpose
making someone in their image
before dying as the son of man.