Third, but not Last

Pray for rain when you could seed the clouds;

Hope for the best when all you wait

Is for your own idle indecision to shatter.

Why ever claim that you are a mere pawn

And insignificant to the extent of vain modesty?

All this when you draw blood at the onset of winter

With no god to goad you and no sun above...

If ever His words were to come true, we’d be slaves,

Carrying out work commanded by our own delirium.

*

The Law Of Shadows

The sinister form following everyone,
Untold entity, part of anyone
Exposed to the sun, out on the street,
Even to places where the sheep cease to bleat.

The only things that follow the laws
Of shadows and followers; devout claws
Clinging to one akin –
Under imaginative skin.


Nearest help, at hand wherever goes one,
But long and gone, when the sun is done.
Live as anything, but still just a thing,
Becomes to one without a mate, the only thing.

Shadows peeling from the walls,
Living lives, never heeding our calls.
Stare as you may, but in the blink of an eye,
Creep on you as they all do, and walk you by.


Imagine as one may, but shadows
Always follow, right to the gallows.
Faithful to the ownership,
The very one who jumped ship;
Company that you can never shun,
Mute, but there till the sun vanishes beneath the horizon.