Tread

        The weapon I have eludes patience and service

        The low uneven creep disturbs my morbid mortality

        This sentence of life without ally

        Mistakes my gratitude without question

        Travesties are just that

        An intangible tread upon the heart

        Waiting to disembowel

        I remember when life was full of lost gods

        When remembrance was only of joy

        And commonplace misgivings were at least entertained   

        If not forgiven

Jam

© James Cross