Explore the nightmare
Of clouded perception.
Delete the traumas of deception.
I am whole.
I am here,
In this world of Godless prayer.
Where no one else
Can truly hear,
Within the hum of massive fear.
They all look up
To find the steeple
That points the way for wingless people.
God does love.
God does rage,
For leaving blank the final page.
Once upon a time,
The Prosecutor designed the crime.
Stand down mad leader
In global shame.
I cast my torch upon your name.
They can’t conceive
I knew you when,
There was a Master to defend.
Disperse us back
Where every woman knew your face.
A fork-split tongue.
You have turned the loaded gun.
Ciera S. Louise c. January 16, 2007