shall be raised
who built these walls around me
was it i
am i the Warden of my own prison
am i the one
who is the keeper
of this fruitless garden
where the soil it’s self
has died
all the tears i have cried
in my life
offers no lasting resolution
nor solution
to this matrix
i co-created
nor has it flooded my mind
with any viable possibilities
of how i may overcome
these frailties
that recur along the pathway
of my journey
the gurneys are lined up
waiting for our lifeless bodies
to wheel us to our new home
don’t bury me
again
cremate me please
and let my ashes be cast
to the skies of ether
that i may taste of the brevity
of a freedom
my soul always sought
in this excruciating stay here
let my soul exuviate
this purgatorious stench
that cloaks it’s wonder
with finite lights of reason
that live not beyond
the earth borne logics of man
understanding is always tethered . . .
to some thing
and in truth
i seek a liberation
that allows my exponential-ness
to breath
beyond these walls
and bars
that encases me
in this dismality
where our children . . .
shall be raised
© 23 June 2012 : William S. Peters, Sr.
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