Rejected by those who held me so dear
Desert of lies where my poems are starving
I know there’s no map designed to head rear
The echoes of that run-in
A tired old song
All uninspired
Powerless in front of heaven’s call
Equally useless
Just a gout in a waterfall
The stock of live flesh
I cannot trust those who seem too sincere
This den of bandits’ where my soul has sunken
Thrown in a lake to cleanse the memories I fear
Yet leaving me dryer than
An old worn-out tongue
All uninspired
Powerless in front of heaven’s call
Equally useless
Just a gout in a waterfall
The stock of live flesh
Only profits the butcher
So now your feet have been mired
And all the herd sunk their flesh and bones
Given life by their leader
Can’t beg
Can’t hide
His hand always grips tighter
Groomed, turned coal black
Slow withdraw
Quick drawback
I only begged for some meaning that I lack
And for that sin I got a target on my back
Now here I stand with a gun in my hand
Storming the den at my don’s command
Seeing me walk in a rage he smurks
Oblivious to his fall
The man he once groomed won’t be useless
After all