naught but what man's lust has made

a man lurks poised before a pristine window
he's devouring the sight of flesh over bone
how can a child comprehend that men can know—
their evil hearts are carefully tended & sown?

that man's set out to warp a heart brutal & wholly
he's stealing all a soul & every store of dignity
ravenous blue eyes reducing a mind to a cyncial crumb
those cold, blazing eyes shearing a child's wings numb

now marred & dazed, exiled from an ever-after faerytale:
a man is witness & culprit in the sinking of a ship meant to sail
now, a child is a helter-skelter aftermath of one man's poison policies
this same man now flees from the fruitful, sour seeds of his diseases

his gift was broken, bruised, & blundered love
forced & bound down a throat with twisted twine & rope

years now past—
so many extant corpses rid of men who bate & lure,
but never rid of ghosts & gales lurking 'hind every overture

the living dead are naught but what mans' lust has made
& they walk everywhere, enduring a pastel masquerade
a boy with lots to say so he can talk above his wrenching soul
& maybe he'll run from the shadow whose face knows the whole

~

in memory of my father