The way

TheFeatheredSleep

Yes
You can take away my last wrapping

That I am lain unclothed, on that unwilling baptism

Behoven to the whim of mankind’s mercy

Or

Whether chance shall triumph

Playing her arched long game in red taffeta

Or

The turn of weather vein encompassed betwixt fate

For surely

It rains where rain is least required

As once verdant lands, feathery and skeletal in need

Their leathered thirst a distant drum beat

We may rend our chests in trying to reconcile

What seems without mercy

As the seeds dry before they reach

Nourishment

As the sun turns away from its hungered crop

As a girl is dragged off, just for showing the ragged hem of her ankle

We who comprise of water and salt

Sweeten nothing if spent in pursuit of filched agrandisement

Forgetful of those who once were brothers, sisters

Pausing toil to climb the jagged mountain

Sharing water beneath…

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