PASIPHAE

The soul of a man
Cannot incur incarceration
Indefinitely
It needs a passage of indifference.

I think of my soul as ice
And life is fire
Slowly turning it to water
That will seep from my very being.

Once the fire and ice mix
I’ll cease to be me
Replaced by the shallow entombment
Of an eagles mind

But who am I
To question fate
I’m just a thought: a dream
Shaken to existence by this cruel reality.

Shaped by this wicked wound
That laughs at everything
And knows no mercy -
It’ll take no prisoner from me.

But then again
It may as well
Take this empty corpse
For I’ve got no use of it anymore.

Latent lust leaves me cold
And passion’s a prehistoric premise
Long left extinct
By modes of momentary madness

But if insanity
Is the beast
I wish it would feed
On the prey laid at its feet.

But it is not
It is something more
Something to move the lines of justification
From tomorrow to today.

Am I an unjustifiable excuse
For this poorly posed portrait?
I don’t know,
I just no longer know.

 2009 Adam Devlin

PASIPHAE

Addevlin

Brunswick East, Australia

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