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.