My wall took years effort, forging foundation
funding on dry papyrus leaves, for the beams are solid
on a crumbling foundation, built poorly atop
dollars active on radio, because what once was
the effect of a bomb still is, but only hold
a mercenary mangle, perched as a sentinel
stationary cellar cursing, all things burn for now
proceed forever infinity, we are destination disaster.
Unshaken is my dream, though the future is dark
survivor dormitories, puddle the landscape
in glowing groundwater, all things are poison
landscape of glass shards, fully dreading
nothing press forward, and at least you know
the point is coming, flipping the crisis
for the wise to platform, bulging bubble
pop and you’re free, to do what you do.
What is that, direction befuddle and fall
over the top two blocks, a bloody reward
for a toe trip forward, tumble into purpose
poised reflection, gold is a maybe
while purpose probably is, perhaps
a captain takes up arms like a carpenter
would be eventually, at the end is a mark
to find comfort in, the simple things.