Slide these tiles until they fit.
To call down from the heavens a solution.
Paralysed with open staring eyes.
Bring victims up alongside.
As druids dance under a pale blue moon.
Selection cannot come from a tomb.
Rocks are totems meant to convey.
Divide will conquer in this deformed way.
Like zeroes and ones sketching a future.
Soon I know that I will point blank shoot her.
Now that pacts have been made and signed in blood.
All prosperity given will be transitioned to no good.
Open eyes and call for peace.
Dwelling here won’t bring release.
Two faced son has been born again.
Paper engraved by a finesse lacking pen.
Carved under shot expelled by high tide.
Uniformity is but a divisive lie.
For siblings will war until lava kills all.
Mark out these forms and you will see shape.
Under these linens lurks that which is branded mistake.
Of opulence with seldom but entropy in skin.
Recounting steps has no actual ending.
So cast nets wide as you pray for fortune.
Head in the sand as a crippled law man.
Weak from these roads travelled too hard.
Awoken by devastation of shrapnel in heart.
Bleed out is a read out meant to impart.
Simon A Jackson - Writer 