Sometimes (many times)
I struggle to find the words;
the words of god, of Lucifer, of
utterance across the span of
a species searching for itself.
Words round up the feelings
and the thoughts that have many
times been heard before my
small life of wondering, and
all who were and are to come,
greater than me, I think, they too
will seek the evil and the good,
and find the devil’s voice and
the call of god in this fine way
to perdition that will come to all.
So, let my soul live in freedom’s
words, in ecstasy and agony and
all that goes with living the poet’s
dismal way, and let it never be a way
of safety, for there is safety enough
in the neat corners of the grave.