Cast one more stone
In a well void of water
To sustain you
As if your trebuchet barrage
Scattered talismans at my weathered feet
Will bring the deluge
Pour out sacrifice
Redolent offering to the god in you
I want nothing more
Than to sharpen my sword on the bones
of your unreachable dreams
Draw this blade across your saline skin
Etch my grievances in blood and mortar
The panacea of fools
Are you even capable of feeling pain?
What a waste
This dance
Your ineffable demesne
Is nothing but gossamer threads
Smoke and mirrors
Cannot contain me
I refuse to move to your
Susurrous litany any longer
I'll cut out your tongue
For my standard
And leave you silent
To decay
TL Boehm 11/09/12