Standard Bearer
Atmosphere peers in as witnessed guide
Playing silent the light a curse of the eye
Distant drum beats,
blood keeping time as the encampment
machines turn
Seer flips an hourglass
measuring the polarity and equity of the fall
Deserters, heads filling the holes increments
of inclement, cement ed dissent of traitorous mole,
ducking tale, tucking trail
motions of churn, taken the asundered call
Into the pit of dry foaming foment
to take the moments from one and all
The sconses lick hungrily at an invisible crevace
beyond the wall
As if to escape the dire situation
Dancing shadows mocking with the flame
Threats to soot on, even urning to you
hieroglyphic mummified remains of the blame
An operative to take the walls
as an agent of willed imagery,
with intent effigy chasing
Voodoo, if self placing, if only in symbology
it signs its name,
yours it seeks erasing
Sways like an imbecile to the drums
that roll on chTantric Seasoning
Chancing luck, diced to taste, the only salvation
Old Men milk the ink and the pages complain
of the hurried-station, airy, brash, the callous flap
But still there to give their credence credulity
and their backs
Thick the cool salve over the eye
Nor reap the fruit of the Harvester
Be not a Mothers bag pulled dry
While the challenge is chalice ready, epic, nigh
The Standard bears the last stand
with royal severity, the last strand of the integrity
Walk the great halls, echo
that Nativity
That takes the line with Authority
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