Gates of Asymmetry

Providence hangs

On crosses at every street corner

Repented on undercurrent, on being

Its embroidered lettered coats

Cast sails to seas

Innocent as pearls are ancient

To what do we owe those who have nothing

But us

A grand clouded mount

A hope in lust

I would stand upon that grave

Proclaiming perfection

When our orders are perverted

Set to grail

Lost in some vast valley

Marching with no guide

To summit its peaks

No bright star to dive its depths

Their violence requires

What is more than human:

Our lions’ sunny halos

Light tempered

We eat our nation

Sucklings double take

At their climbed willow ladders

All I have is you

But all you have is freedom

For only in those high pitches

Are burrowing tombs