a huddle with strangers
I lead a prayer
chanting away in my head
only the departed can hear
God sighs, angels giggle
the strangers get confused
a prayer for a benevolent
Emperor!
who sits in a throne
floating on clouds
as the world mourns
dewy, exquisite flowers
passing on as a gift
for whom are they?
nobody knows
nobody dares
but they must travel
to grace dark and
filthy places
to look for the
right recipient
… in the sea of the dead!
two nobody’s women
indulging in a serious meeting
one holds a piece of paper
the other listens
one asks, “would it be alright?”
the other replies, “check its verity.”
I walk by in silence
they give me a look
of despair
I’m ready to go
no time for me to show
I’m beaten and dead inside
why must my mind still flow
nothing makes sense
nobody is left with an essence
a prayer has been delivered
the flowers must be surrendered
the two nobody’s women are silenced
this is the land of men
this is the land of men!
meanwhile,
the benevolent emperor
is a hoax
God commands His troops
the angels laugh out loud
they snag me off the ground
hear ye, hear ye!
let us all pray!
hear ye, hear ye!
let us all pray!
all I hear from confused strangers
who look for me and the wonder
of verity
Nothing makes sense at all.
Nobody is left with an essence anymore.*
