The many gods

Tongues and fingers light the
path, flickering this way and that,
casting hawkish shadows upon the
mosaic of dimly lit memories

Twisting language and shifting grips,
searching for the righteous words
and propitious angles, hoping the
past is forgotten, thus forgiven

Begging and bargaining to their
one of the many gods, to be
favoured above their brothers,
flattered above their sisters

Praying hands of preying minds,
a torch to illume singular devotion,
to blind the suspiciously sighted,
and to set ablaze invisible foes

They then wait; dazzled by a distorted
reality, a quirk of evolution; led astray
by their desperate desire, left
betrayed by their clutching pyre

art: (untitled) by Zdzisław Beksiński

Published by a.d.matthias

no w here

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