Alchemisland

My way of surviving

Clinging to the side

Of the first person who walks by

With some life behind the eyes.

Giving to be wise;

That one-eyed Viking primate has seen tithe’s zenith,

His sky-climbing wild wives were fighting seeresses, brides divine.

Who can prise it free is not necessarily who best plies a thing.

The crier proves king

When only stinging tears can wound unhealingly the brindled skin

And bring to heel the bringer of sin, unbelief’s greatest dealer.