He stands on the pulpit, voice calm and wise,
Telling the poor to seek heaven's prize.
"Shun the world, take little, be meek,"
But never does he name the strong who steal what the humble seek.
He speaks of virtue in tattered shoes,
But not of the hands that tighten the noose.
He blesses hunger, calls it divine,
While feasting in halls built from stolen time.
He says, “Your burden is sacred and light,”
But his silence is heavy, darker than night.
For truth, when bent to serve the blade,
Becomes the lie by which justice is betrayed.
So, mark this preacher, soft of breath.
He sings of peace, but sows in death.
If he blesses chains and praises grief,
Then he wears not faith, but the cloak of a thief.

The wind writes letters in the language of  
fallen leaves, edges like burnt parchment.

The moon carves shadows of boughed arms,  
a question mark deep in the soil’s throat.  

Somewhere, she hesitates, the magpie:  
one foot in the underbrush, one in the realm  
of quicksilver and stolen syllables.  
Her beak glints with the moon’s loose change.  

What does she know of the weight  
of a minute’s wingbeat? She tilts her head,  
stitching the sky with a thief’s precision—  
collects tarnished seconds.

The wind’s letters fray, unreadable now.  
The magpie flies, trailing a cry that unravels  
time’s hem.

what is this game
you wish to play?
what is this thing
you take away?
you want my light?
to feed your darkness
you want my love?
to feed me lies

you take everything.
and give nothing in return.

you’re nothing but a thief

thief.

Pick picket my soul
Take what was found
There’s nothing quite profound
Nothing of gold
Nothing of silver
Nothing but a trail of leaves
But not even a breeze
For thieves themselves are the wind
I could only hear the crunch of leaves
so pickpocket me, my dear thief

When she did shine
She shined like gold
Gold
That he loved to steal

You came in and stole it,
everything that was ever mine.
You stole my heart too,
with all the sadness that's within.
Nothing that was mine was left,
you took it all for yourself.

Dawn sneaks upon me
Like some thief come to rob
All silent dark bliss