inchoate stars
sharp as knives
shards of tumbling stone
of unknown provenance
rolling through
often cut the quick
and blood spills in the mix
made hale by fear and anger
the more ulcerous the better
for cold things sharpened
and hard things made strong
the pillars in your life
the scaffold catching all that raining brimstone
from ruptures in that sky
which are leaking beams of light
are the only saviours man can try
escape this world
be vigilant or die
keep rough your soul
throw the world down a hole
in the kiln
bake it til it cant hold onto its skin
take stock
of all you have earned by stars
draw no line inside your heart
make no limit in the art of living
dying
bearing
and killing