And even as the jewels of his crown
Lay parted from their sockets
The steel engraved with memories of rage
He remains King of all that dwells in deprivation of light.
Amongst his sharp-edged jewels
I seize the disembodied heart
Cradled in a pale of tears
I carry my token of love to the hills of desolation.
Until such distance where pain reaches a quiescent state
Where my hands no longer quake
And each breath of belligerent air numbs the flesh
A much desired stillness to aid in the grasping of a needle
As I rethread the strings of my heart
I realize the absence of persecution beside a self-loathing martyr
For as long as I have the will & tongue to say, "This is the worst."
I have not yet felt nor tasted the worst.
..bear grace, my King
Tenderness was never promised, denied or owing
I chose by heart to follow in your fall to Hell
And so prepared a tumbling coffin for the rest of my life.
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