Roaming the rolling sapphire,
Thoughts of home & the bereaved.
Under tide they sink.
Spit back into that grand basin,
Give a good greeting to Poseidon,
Lift up your cup & drink;
To the fathoms we eclipsed,
The journey facing.
** & heave,
Waves crash against the hull
Letting on water;
I've never much cared for
Admitting defeat in the presence
Of overwhelming odds,
I'd rather die on my feet
Bravely meeting the Gods

Are the British braver than us?
That they police their streets with no firearms?
Or simply more humane & competent
That they feel no need to threaten to ****** their fellow citizens?
Failure to comply
With law and order
With our militarized police
Means you risk your life.
Even if you are collecting trash,
Even if you are sleeping,
Even if you are exercising inalienable rights.

Here I had thought
Generally, each of our governments
Loved to issue & execute warrants-
Or is that merely applicable
To the poor, those with no status
Who carry no political weight
Besides their life of work?

Verdicts down on from
Supposedly the highest body
In the arbitration for justice

It's seeds of gunpowder,
To produce a foul fruit
Which kills the vine.
Bunch of psychos,
And the thoughts are dark
Because it's an empty mind.

If it's not something others will do,
If their governments will not hold their leaders accountable,
Then we need the Paddys, the Svens, the Pablos to;
You cannot wait for a criminal
To turn themselves in,
For they never shall.
At their level,
They will avoid prosecution
Till they swim in the lakes of hell.
And meanwhile, how many
Will they facilitate in the deaths of?
How many innocents murdered?
How many must be "martyred?"

What difference does a **** make to me?
None.
Fools running a country
In the desert, into the ground.
Another on-stage for the EU.
What difference does it make
What name you take?
It's the same **** you spew
From a *****'s mouth
Sold to the most secretive
Or those just as ignorant,
Whether in the same or different ways.

Breathless, when I met her-
Pains me she never recovered

Weaponize your loneliness,
As your rose takes on thorns
Till it hurts in that hand
Crushing the stem in your own