the rise

Strategies of legitimacy.
Bastards born of expediency.
Creativity jaded to ride a pave'd road,
faded before sunrise, reaping what was sowed:
Mediocrity and the slow death
with every pulse and breath.
The cold wombs doom the stillborn
to the suffocating mutilation of the thorn
plucked from an ungrateful heel.
Wordplay, the uncured way we feel
about everything except what matters
as the remnant ash scatters.
The stone the builders once rejected
returns as corner, resurrected.


William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.