“Shame on the Watchman”

Devil take hand’s plans and cut the arm

of the remote director’s worst wishes.

He is that which has sinned and begs

for your pertinent arrival at his door.

Silhouettes of the sunken ships of past

horrors float on the sea of his making.

See the storm that rises over the horizon

and shreds the timbers to the shape of

the handle which he bars from turning.

Let none in but those who sail alone,

irrespective of reflections within the ocean

of false truths that crescendo with Luna.

Blind destruction retreats and returns

as the helpless many watch without warning.

Shame on the watchman who knows not

when the immovable tide is breaking.



Waiting for one’s deliverance

from the forces of fate is

a game of destiny beheld

by the kings of antiquity.

Seen in dreams through

night’s elaborate tapestry,

the war for those who rise

and fall is won by the bold

warriors who dare to sleep.

Those who stay awake and

face the visions of patience

forever dread the days of

following the unknown path

that leads to their nightmares.