i remember truth
driven through the light
cold bloom
and it’s quiet night
sharp as a silver blade
and twice as bright

yellow flies
on purple mountains
write radiant stars
removing complex scars
as invisible bars
of this timeless cage
remind me of
a young and foolish sage
dancing on a separate stage
of silent rage

mirror merchants
guided by a slow rhyme
commit another victimless crime
as serpentine eyes work overtime
to shift this endless paradigm

worshiping collective cats
under the stars
this habitual hermit
holds a gun
a gun of the mind
that calls to the sun
with a decadent pun
dissecting then dismissing
secrets of seasonal fun
undone
we’re once again
sent back to square one