You will always be the broken

structure where I hide

in my hypocrisy.


Yes, I shall build my crypt

with your stone, and I

will be the mortar;


Stacking you high into the

shadows overhead;


holding you fast where I

deem is your home;


My mortar will hold you!


Indeed, it shall outlast your

stone;


Holding it's vague shape

in chalky, skeletal ruin while

men gaze, not knowing what

that shape could mean.


© Nathan A. Brock