If you pursue a dream

does it become a waking nightmare?

On the lawns of Babylon

I walk into that forbidden city

where the keys to my past

are held

by Satan, himself

and my soul, is like

a red steak

for that carnivorous creature of the night.

The world offers trite tripe

to the decadent

who swallow fishhooks

with delight.

They are caught by women,

or whatever suits their fancy.

I dress in an invisible cloak

that exposes my nakedness—

casting spells, to form words

that carry power.

I don’t wear the uniform of God

I only climb

my tall tower

that reaches beyond heaven

with a foundation conceived

in the womb of hell.

It isn’t my wish, that I wish for

but the miracle

that never comes.

I don’t surprise myself, anymore

and that, is the tragedy.

Each day lost, like a lifetime

Knowledge Gained

Wisdom Won

and

Miracles

None.

I’ve talked to men of God

I’ve talked to men of men

I’ve listened to women—God, I’ve listened to women

and nobody knows

what I’m

talking about.

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