the past i've lived
in tomorrow's arms it rests

my paper wings
arrayed in flames to brave the test

a goodly sort of ghost
a wraith of salt

my core of clay
a collapsed ******* ~ halt

of reasoning lax
a cipher sea ~ a sequence black

a great metaphor of fool
a mine of lack

oh! brave young innocence is lost!

heaven earth and hell
traversed at such a cost!

the seeds the weeds
have grown tall glass construction

i bless the first
and leave last to corruption

however have the
bitter tears turned hands to rust

how do the dregs of past
turn holy wine to

dust


soulsurvivor
catherine jarvis
(C) october 14, 2014