“Keep your nose clean”

His intent was momentous.
An ant like phrase,
with mountainous exorcism.

“Keep your nose clean”,
His voice like Zeus,
thunderously subtle.

Echoing and vibrating,
through regret, sin,
and fueled debauchery.

This phrase kept me true,
on-course through,
dark seas.

A map to navigate,
knowing when,
to steer away.

“Keep your nose clean”
I hear him still,
his voice sobering.

“Yes, grandfather.”

“I will”

[ What are you here for? ]

                                            For things I should have finished long ago.

[ You can run while you still can. ]

                                                              ­                 I can't, I am exhausted.

[ There is still time. ]

                       Then I would have to abandon everything I hold dear.

[ But you would be alive. ]

                         What good am I alive if I cannot be with those I love?

[ So you accept your fate? ]

          It was meant to be the moment I stepped back into this world.

[ Your fate is in your hands. ]

              And those who have done wrong will always pay the price.

[ And what would your last request be? ]

                                                              ­               That a miracle happens.

[ A miracle? ]

                     I am ready to pay the price for my crimes but for today.

[ . . . ]

                                                     Just for today I wish I could be saved.

[ That is up to you. ]

                                                I can only hope that I am strong enough.

[ Only time will tell. ]

                                                              ­  Do you think I can make it out?

[ . . . ]

                                                        Can I make the heavens reconsider?

[ . . . ]

                                                              ­                                         I figured.

[ Remember. ]

                                                              ­                                                  Yes?

[ Your fate is now in your hands. ]



                                                      -Kore

I thought I was everything
and nothing all at once.
This world all spinning
To the direction of my blazing trails.

But I was a fool
I was always a fool to think so.
I let my blood run cold into the depths
of every body of water I could drown in.

And I thought it would be enough
I ran this world clutched under my fingertips
I believed I was above it all
And above every felony I could commit most of all.

But I believed in things
When I couldn't believe in myself
"The ends justify the means."
As I thought myself worthy of giving judgement.

But everything that goes around comes around
For who was I to call upon judgement
No mercy and no worth
All  under the guise of a wrathful and unforgiving God.

But I stand here before you now
Before the court, the jury, and the Gods
To sentence me now, a false prophet
For I once believed I was everything and nothing all at once.

I confess all my sins
And admit that I was a fool
I was a fool to think I could change something
That there was a meaning to everything I've done.

So lock me away
From everything I have ever hold dear
For nothing will be enough
To erase all my faults.

But isn't it punishment enough
That I've lost all I had?
Watched good men fall to dust.
And saw empires of what I've built collapse and rot?

I suppose it never ends
After all we carry all our atrocities
Even in death and rebirth
Forgiveness was never an option.

So maybe I'll just raise hell on this ******* earth every chance you allow me to.

-Kore

In the heart of the city of peace, a sinful act occurs:  
         Blue bruises of love beautify my neck, just as hers;
Colouring this grey canvas of gloom with divine thuds,
         It is then, when they rush into us: the filthy bloods.


Stain me with sins, and paint in white over me vigorously,
          Let the gods who created us, design our hell rigorously,
Let knees rumble, red eyes tumble, and virtues stumble,
          Stumble into a chaotic loss of heads: a loss humble.

When I lay in my sheets
Still searching for sleep
I'm confronted
a fight from the gaping the deep
succumb to seduction, both tasty and cheap?
will I fall?
will my sleep still be shameless and sweet?

Run your fingers along the lines of time
Scored across my skin, the marks of sin.
The aftermath of everything.

TS Lefort 2021