those above the law…

you’re vinegar drops
on the crucifix of time
our blood warmed your feet
but shed blood turns to lava
and so our fate will be yours

 

sans…

sans

passing
through
the flaming curtain
of fear
into
the new year
you
holding fast
to the crucifix
you’ve honed
from phantasm
declare
faith
in tomorrow
but
when the drunken sun
rises
will you
once again
grab
your prayer beads
and chant
the same old
mantra