suspense gathers to danger,
that paladin, not a savior, causing conquerors to fall
seizing a soul, a feather left, ink poured on the table
gorge– the source, the feeder, the demons left appalled

and you flaunt
a flowing wing or so it seems
the past is over
but we’re still remembering

callous ice
hitting harder than igneous stone
but when in Rome–
they **** a brother
for callous crowns and silly thrones–