What Gavel Presumes...

to judge and call us damned.

Is it our impunity or that we impugn

the stilted crack of verdicts assumed

by a law with scant reason to stand?

 

Your book and your grammars

do not grant your withering temerity,

in the face of your own heresies,

to blaspheme the tide of our clamors.

 

I am godless and we,

unbelieving heretics in our sanity,

rise one upon another, hopefully,

maybe stumble on a burning scree.

 

But one hand will wrest,

one blistered blackened hand will shriek out this hammer,

cast it unto inferno's yammer, as

mere kindling for your judgement

addressed.

◄ The Rarest Gem

Suddenly Always Happens On Familiar Roads ►

Comments

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Martin Elder

Thu 11th Jul 2019 22:03

I try not to judge anybody if I can help it. But I judge this to a brilliant poem Devon.
Nice one

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