Make It Sacred

Or die trying to find unity

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This world diamond lattice rigid
and we but water flowing
upwards toward some unknown
abomination of mortal toils.
As heavenly hope falls, lost druids
of hourglass wanderers,
from the cracks of existents
slither into the night with shadow
and the morning without light
querying, if all these cosmic cycles
was for a reason,
that is the multiverse of a single life
would there be morality to cling
or are all things permitted,
in the dunes of eternity?

Why do we wear our shackles,
branded with logos and
categorical penitentiaries,
conceptual consciousness
strangling the life right out
of us, leaving us heaps of bones
and muscles, to rot in the boredom
of our corporate oligarchs.

I wonder what those men of the cloth
ponder, when the blind lions
wander the halls of justice, plundering
with a spear…