sickle of death

here, we are.
there, we are.
everywhere, we are.
you, we, me, are.

until we are not.

Wheezing, cold, sweating
our chest aches in cramps
eyes, dry, flushed with tears.

our heart stops every so often
to make sure we can hear
the bombs falling
and the bullets whizzing by.

we should stand
for the pledge of Allegiance
to our hearts' desires:
waiting for the rain,
always in the rain.

here, we are, again.
always again, never
the first time
the universe was created,
but always again.

Our toes curled from walking
barefoot over glaciers:
underneath lie treasures
only our children will never know.

we come to our senses,
make better choices:
this time,
at least,
this time, we'll make
all the choices

to be here and there
to be love and to be conscience
for the universe does not know
when it has gone wrong,

Not like we know:
the slow-motion wreckage
of black-holes consuming lives
and experiences
(rendered permanently
upon its experiential horizons)

Our hearts and our Universe
are one, without conscience:
	we do not know
	how our love
	went wrong.

We have not
though we've always
instead, thinking
it's not a feeling
but a sacred thought,
as close to god
as devils are close
: : many to one : :
a Universe(al) syntax

take all that we have been,
take it and live freely
but let us pass without
sorrow or solitude,
a Universe's gratitude.

the best lay dying,
like us, we lay dying
waiting for the tears
from god and his devils,
again, again, again!
Soapbox Artist: collecting art & literature of the worst kind