As I wander in search of a can and never fetch judgement,
Perhaps not yet astray, the hope to find hanging solely on paper thread, the phantom of reality arose before me clear enough to see,
This trouble terribly massive, mask as the sea.
This petition not easily written as I would, returning upon the high spirit of my poems but I found nothing.
With quaking fingers dip through the wake of cold sweat,
I carved words of censure, pointing finger at this immortal inhumane.
I ponder in silence, for the very first time, my many knowledge abandoned me to fend for myself,
in all my many years of intimacy with words I have never been so nakedly bare,
I wander to coin phrases from the purses of the genius of my poet masters of old lands.
the hands of their knowledge though heavily cloy with sage, yet too tender in age to be within consort to solve this “deathless mystery”
The clairsentience of the greatest seer is peerless to this as this immortal cruelty was discuss as a “cuss” when the fertility of human was just “Wo and Man”
It is sickenening, as I feather each line nauseating, thrown into a pool of swirl,
how do I art the identity of this “murderer”?
As its deeds are beyond science and modern, beyond boundaries of the rich and poor, beyond the limit of young and old, beyond the difference in man and woman, beyond the strong and feeble, beyond bravery and cowardice, every per, sons and daughters all defenceless prey.
The aggregate of this end high in pinnacle like the agglomerate of the very soil, all the heroic toils of existence meet ends with this cruel eidolon.
This “murderer” go to its victim with the seal of nature, so as I write this petition wishing for its reprieve,
I am bare in knowledge, to what authority do I address this petition?
All reigns of kings across all lands are bend to it, the universe give it life eternal and exalt it above all lives.
To whom do I then write this petition to?
I write then for my own use to trace out hope,
I hope the good lord over nature would look upon us gracefully,
Effuse on us longer liberty to live above reach, ages old not at the mercy of this murderous sojourner.
Poet: Smile Austin