i. Rain of Fire and Ashes
A mind of unpolished copper
eyes, once oxidized, no longer
shines with life’s bright lustre, but rusts—
splinters of envious emeralds man should have
realized make any other find of denied
suffering better than what unkind wilderness
offers, this curse of destiny’s
course by feathered serpents troubled,
horizons by pyramids pushed
ever higher, azure jewels crushed to dust death
b(l)inds heaven’s height with, lining her eyes tiger-like,
rain’s lashes whipping stripes of tears prayers cannot wipe—
ii. When People Swam like Little Fish
Man’s thoughts, once thrice-greatest, risk loss
sacrificed on ego’s eager
altar—where he goes his shadows
follow and fall, clouded mirrors disavowing
all knowledge of secret selves doubt lets out, souls he
bleeds of significance until nothing but bloat
remains, when tempestuous winds
blow his loose flesh to false ardour—
but hollow armour takes its hits
harder, and in those halls of plunder he wanders,
unsafe harbours draw under what treasure stone hearts
blush with blunder, sinking to bone wounds he ponders.