Genre: Rhyme, Political, Society
by Keely Kiczenski
A shapely shifting goddess for thee.
The king is folded now is your chance.
Take nothing you need. Lend none of your heed to arms with no hands.
Crave and call your heart’s bloody pounds
With thin air streaming under your feet.
Your echoing kill rings guilty and gilded ears in the street.
To warn them that their idol’s collapsed.
Deflated gods erupt from the hills.
Rich lava bleeding through but not ceding to men’s fragile wills.
Ready yourself for controversial glory.
Set free the heavy hearts of those who can’t flee.
Go write something wrong or heal with a song the eyes that won’t see.
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