wherefore lies heaven
not hymn
nor hurrah
ne’er up on high
nigh
nor an auric kasbah
no solace for souls
in a sold sanctuary
whilst ciliced dregs writhe
arbitrary redux
nix gates of impearl
by priestly permittance
and witless damnation
maimed morals of beasts
a world without savior
sans serif
sans self
awash with a wastrel-worn
wistful distress
where wishes and prayer
prey deaf ears
with deft fates
as the fortune of fools
finds no promised land yet
for their haven
lives fear
and fond heaven
knows death



Reblogged this on A Global Divergent Literary Collective and commented:
Max Meunier
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Beautiful
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