These god-like stones
These god-like stones will end with time,
ruined and lost among progress’ monoliths.
My hair tunnels into my ear as I
light matches in the frozen wind.
Ground is hard to till with rocks
animals and specters now call home.
I search for morsels on withered plants
sprouting from concrete catacombs:
the midnight hunger of the prosperous,
waking from pillows of down to go downstairs
searching for more than food.
Sounds of huffs
Sounds of huffs of air from animals
of my same species saturate my den,
Clouding my judgment
Steps from the back hallway rush me to reality.
Buttons I press to conceal the truth
Hidden in the night.
The hands of the lesser
Would I let my kingdom fall into the hands of the lesser?
Would I allow my house to crumble?
I would watch as my dreams fall apart
And give way under the weight of selfish children not caring to kill.
Could I trust my child to the butchering animals and
I watch them dragged out and stoned on the stone streets?
Would I trust my jugular in the hands of 2nd yr. 2nd rate medical students
Stayed up late-partying-
Drooping scalpel in hand.
I love them all. I could I give my all up
To the mob to misuse and misguide.
I never could sacrifice my work and time for them
But You can?