Wednesday, December 4, 2013

My soul is eviscerated & hanging to the slaughterhouse wall, but
you don't care, my darling/ you don't care at all/ the pieces of
Humpty Dumpty cover the floor/ I gather the shattered shell, but
my efforts to glue them together come to naught/ the shell just crumbles in
my fingers into dust/ the more I try to fix him, the more futility rules/ soon
I am beset by hobgobbolins, ghosts & ghouls & surrounded by a
chorus of mad fools/ they see what I try to do/ they mock me & laff, until
the beauty of yr image shows, & their derision becomes their jealousy, but
I'm handcuffed by futility/ the best I do is observe yr beauty & am amazed.
O darling, take me off the wall/ take me from the shattered pieces/ I shall
not wallow in them longer/ U make me better than this/ U make me
climb into the sun/ I wrap up the fire & light & bring them as a gift/ I
also bring myself for U to hold/ U make me better than I am because I
need U because I love U/ if there's something U don't have, I'll
give it to U/ if it's worthy of yr love, my darling, it's yrs,
yes, my splendour, yrs . . .
Fritz Hamilton 

Helpless I do not know if good intentions prevail among the elected, among the appointed, leaving me apprehensive that the fate ...