in a malevolent landscape
where even the trees are foreign to them
no thing manusete for comfort
as if convicted by some law of attainder
levelled at them in their sedition to overturn
the law of nature itself
some apochryphon tricks them in a Faustian bargain
to set decency aside and find ways back
to the right path laid out by the Prophet
yet the devil at his elbow forever
ensuring that the script men followed
were but a felony of the good book itself
quoth Lucifer the sun will rise and fall like empires
at my discretion and mine alone
the wild indifference of the stars
like the frozen face of a dead mans portrait
framed in time by a Daguerrotype
of some uncivil war still raging
in the heart of a nation where the light is cast
spooling from sea to shining sea
forever bested by another
clothed in the livery of some other braveheart altogether
are as nothing to me
Flynnpoetry 