zealots…

zealots

shrouded in hate
a life in fear
fear of revealing
that beneath
the layers of disdain
lies
an empty life
with
only
hate
to protect it
from
being recognized
as
a fearful fraud
destined
for
an unknown
grave

midnight torment…

night embraces you
in cloth of hidden shadows
with sequin street lights
pulsing through the growing fog
sanctuary for nightmares
moments unwanted
making you conscious of death
and unable to sleep

 

things that go bump in our mind…

fear brings childish thoughts
of what’s seeking to harm us
things different from us
we hide those fears from view but
they’re always under the bed

 

cross-examination…

 

the chalice was filled
with the warm blood of children
during morning prayers
for they were non-believers
non-believers in your god
your god’s the true one
but does your god fear children
are not divine words
enough to sway young minds or
are you the non-believer

 

due to rain…

 

he cannot recall
nor celebrate bravery
wearing fear’s mantle