Too sore even to stretch
Two steel swords gore-etched
Blood-drenched
Unentrenched Liberty wields.
My life feels like silence after a long song
Once bluebottle soul still as Sol over Gibeon of the silted pit
My stilted pips
Spread filth
Across gilded lips
Puckered to kiss.
Delayed action
Belated relief.
Relating more to a skeletal leaf
That scrapes like a lost dog’s lead
As it leapt along the street
As harbinger of fleeceless season,
Than to the rest of humanity.
Alchemisland 
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