A simple cup or bearer arranging flowers to carry in a handful of water. These are not demons I slay but former versions of self. No harbinger of dark times yet acid runs through these veins and the acrimonious song burns my lips. Yet flowers no more but the blocks and riddles of heaven. Gone, thank you, dismissed, you’re welcome crying overhanging the great drop to the center of the mind and universe. Do you wish to fall, landing the broken blessings of yesterday’s man?

Reformed, made to withstand and thousand greater heart aches and trials that would consume all previous thought manner and intention. This life given neither hampered nor dismayed but phased out of shape and time to become purpose and hope. Freed from the greed of a man’s lust for more. Taught exhaustive language to embellish and explain the purple dawn of a million unwed moons. This is too hard to hang on to tomorrow’s yesterday. It shall be set free.

Spit holding the sanctimony of man’s humbled tears to feed the footsteps of creation. Retarding the flames that shape and bond. World’s away, looking for the light of man’s distant fashion. Cupped in the palm of God held close for inspection, I am no more, just vapor, hollow thought. Looked upon, seen and forgotten by myself, remembered by someone greater than I may know. Ashamed and mesmerized that He knew me before the world dawned. Thank you for giving me nothing but a puzzle. Thank you for carrying within the seeds to end all wanton.