Wayward

Death comes unexpected
How can we bargain with it?
Sawdust and gasoline
The ignition of the yearn,
The burn, the mind churn;
Greased up and clamoring
To smolder off,
Soiled not to be cleansed.
This human spirit,
Born under the bluest of sky
Hand carved with the pure,
Into pure fright.
The carnivals at night,
That clank and clang
Through the moist laden brain
Undresses us in ways
Where the mirror has no sight.
Come with me.
Unattoned, give me Walden,
You can have your Eden.
Leave me to breathe
Air which is neither forgives
Nor is forgiven.
The neutrality,
The causality,
The bitter swig of nothingness;
The forever crack
In the conscious jug.
The vulnerable
Stowed behind the armor
Which may bring the body up,
May bring the body down.
Impressions left to fly or to drown.
