moros and mercy

Ah! Have you revered yourself cathedra?

How very aristocratic an aureate –

meretricious by an altitudinous exedra

bathed in verdure and harvest – you laureate

in the sky so admirably azure and agleam

while I refuge by a glimmer and a dream.

How very many a consort

await your adoration by a single fireplace forbearingly.

You would take your pick like some sort of a sport

as they drown in amaurotic reverence.

How comfortably ensconced you are (and we)

in the cadence of self-serving rationalisations!

What appetency to mar

entities yonder! (and we)

What barbarity to assert loth, fabricated thus! (and we)

While we grieve for the passing lot!

What honour in your embrace that validates the termination of existence?

How will you knight them?

Will they feast on a bounty of fruit?

Will they rest by a Garden?

Will they receive their prayers worth?

While we grieve!

Perhaps its us,

who yearn for your camaraderie so,

that feeds your inadvertence,

that ignites your bloodthirstiness,

that thickens your iron heart,

that brings disaster upon us.



originally published: 5 Jun 2017

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