I

Prophets – slaughtered, silenced
Faces stolen, woven together and flown
Flag of surrender tormented
Wind of disclosure
Wailing, moaning for her sail.

The vessels broken bones loosely chatter
Words are lost to colourless death
His hand crept unnoticed
Infiltrating the puppet mind
A performance ensues.

Tears from the orator
He who ate the heart of another
Tongue tied by the same pale hands
A ribbon gift of retribution
Well deserved and equally received
By the man who is
But never was.

 

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