confessions of the living

the plague invades both the weak and the strong

no one evades the cemetery song

and if there is healing

no one gets well

those who survive of the living

are no less strangers to hell

 

we hear the confessions

of those on the front line

informal last rites

for the dead and the dying

when the enemy rises like a cloud in fog

even the atheist calls on his God

 

but it’s time, merely time

that we have on our hand

there’ll be no victor

amongst the few who might stand 

exit-stencil

the arc of a covenant 
the sting of the bee 
was I feeling it... 
or was it feeling me? 

exit stencil

the arc of a covenant
the sting of the bee
was I feeling it…
or was it feeling me?