barbwire truth encases my throat,
a necklace of idolized glory.
nails bleed while i try and claw
the indecision from flesh and faith.

i've been swallowed and sold to egypt
for fools gold, pewter, and bronze...
exchanged as counterfeit.
you couldn't tag my self worth,
couldn't ask me how long
my soul has been "saved."

i say to you, the unforgiving,
beware:
you've sacrificed yourselves as goats,
burned upon a makeshift pyre.
never will you scale
the sides of the mountain.
never will your god awaken.

the world is up for grabs,
but reprieve shall be the lion that crouches in wait
while the other scaled claws snatch and miss.
they, the gossip mongers, are shambles,
they've been tainted in glossy ignorance.

light cannot be bartered
for a black dawn.

but those who seek wisdom
will be shrouded in grace.
there is time yet.
love never seeks its own.

(to the downtrodden,
i say simply thus:

the shrill of demons may be
deafening
but hope can shatter all cries.)

08/04/2004

Author's Note: inspired by a stomachache and the chiles man.

Posted on 08/04/2004
Copyright © 2024 Rachelle Howe