Dim lit, damp and distant corner
torn from dream of vapor’s fold.
Slow descent to worlds divided,
nothing hot and nothing cold.
Long ago this soul forgotten,
cast off in the ides of youth.
Un-forgiven deeds left hiding
beneath the stone of burden’s proof.
Wait to see if fate redeems her.
Wait to hear if time repeals.
Sentence passed down just to mar her.
Word and deed like flint and steel.
‘Jezebel!’ they mock to call her,
waging war against the skin.
Pressed on by the mob’s directive,
let the judgment now begin.
Scrutinize each blood-stained footprint
left across the ice drawn field.
Hide the ones who hold her province.
Never bend. No, never yield.
For from that damp and distant corner
ever flows the world of hate
through the veins of those who think they…
hold the key to Heaven’s gate.
