Fragments of broken glass
this room’s dimensional windows
a stone’s throw away, living on the edge too long.
Silence dances in darkness
through an altered state.
voices, a regimented life!
Toy soldiers living not in dreams
I stand, inhaling plumes
amid cumulous vapors
an air sifting desert’s room
where vultures gather – nearby soon
waiting for their fleshly noon.
Iambic soul prints rise
beaded sweat – literary forms, I think
and, I write into the nights
a soul of exile waits for
mountains moved of Sinai’s bliss
a holy kiss,
t-h-i-s was all it took.
Esteem bleeds its way back
into the form of type – face print
and, I thirst!
No longer hungry for the world
as shady turns,
and dusty paths
survive – the thermal nuclei imprints
and spiritual genes, a complex DNA
unravel the mysteries
upon the annihilation of exiled souls
finding peace, in a war torn-world in the person of Savior.