Outrank sullen shrapnel,
pining for a scar.
Sentinel waves that flux,
perk up to seize the czar.
Intwined within a fragmented silhouette,
I grapple the steel-plated mind’s tar.
“THERE!”
A finite burst of optimism coated me.
The thinner the layers—
the higher the bar.
Two-tone feelings, from past and present,
shake up and shatter my head’s tenets,
while medics get working on my penance.
“FAITH!”
The touch down commences.
From angels comes angles
never witnessed.
The breadth of thirst,
for desire’s syringes,
no longer lasts a day.