Bed of Yearning
Jostled logic and gentle beating
carve and twist
at the mirages they have erected for you
like the choking of the drowned.
As for the mad dogs
they have learned to walk by your side
and wait for chewed up morsels
fear has spat in disgust
But sleep for now
Sleep on a bed of yearning and sewn up flesh
Equality, Justice and the Brotherhood of Man
exit from your brain like the amputees
you have left behind
heading for the sea
while pretending there are no observers.
But pretend for now
for the disease of survival is,
and burying bruised heads in the sand.
You are molding the terrain of the future
with the coming of the tides
and the shroud of the crowds.
But ask yourself
Can dreams be made to float
the breath of mercy
or even the sheath of silence?