Tell Them (12/8/2003)

feel me now,

that you might know

all is not without hope;

tell them who I was so that they may know,

tell them I was a lost and forgotten brother of the eternal flame,

a dry empty flask of flesh, filled with defiled innocent blood,

a quiet whisper in the wind from which there is no rest,

a drifting soul of passion with a hot burning thirst

for the sordid whores cum;

which can never be filled;

tell them who I was so that they may know,

that they may see there was more

than this cosmic shackled clown into which I was turned,

this bright speckled feathered beast upon which vultures feed;

tell them I was more;

that I was a sailor sailing into the gentle setting sun

on eternal ships of blazing fire and steel,

adrift upon blue forgotten seas where only few have been,

a lonely lonesome traveler traveling down lost endless roads

ruled by the darkness of a thousand nights,

hidden in ancient temples

where children of belligerent gods play,

giving thanks to idols of leisure

that they might be safe in soft warm beds of gold;

yes,

tell them;

that I was a lover,

a brother,

a son.

a man;

a poet.

.

.