If faith has betrayed me, my entire life... the entrusted dynamic varying between munificence

or lethargic catatonic pain

Lays innocuous clasps, brazen and denounced, assert  juxtaposition sans identity

the indemnity a semblance of soul redemption's cowls

   upon the call of the unclear

Lost identity flushing away my right to palpable stalwart meditations...

And the little worth of a day's work, lays only callous the thoughts of future redemptions

What trust is there?- In the guild of fate, the guise of champions and warriors?

Can bereft cessation of  continuing thoughts, vain and in claustrophobic retention -....?

Quell what small path of hope truly lays before me



The scratching arms and demon's claws

Shield resounding hope and prey on what little

clarification lays before me...

In the center of desolation is a slowly churning series of events

When the caustic remembrance of distant hope came and went...

And falling upon an enslaved cross, of all defiled creatures in eternity



I fear the angels have turned their back and beckon with laughs mocking me

Simple requiem, safe courted satisfactions denied, amassing principle

Caught by  Godless precipice, doughty subjective paucity and impure

  classlessness devolves into brash resuming horrors

That the best of me

Was the first

Yet again the least to fight and prove

What can faith redeem?