Letter to the exiles

The greater hands of lesser sons

Letter to the exiles
With the devil at my back
Giving lies in the form of dreams. Unfinished
With a heart unfinished, a body undone
Never hearing a voice or the sound of moving steps
Living life like a sickness
I let the cancer increase
This is how the venom works
'You are so broken' that's what you said to me
This is restless sleep
These are prophets' dreams
So when I wake what will I see
The image of a madman before me or some holy presence?
Make us calm: Amongst us: a remnant of what was
I hear the fall in the sound of walking away
With the devil at my back giving lies in the form of dreams
This is the recollection of what I used to be
But as it stands this is who I am
All my wanderings to no avail, risen now, not called to mourn
The sight arrested, suspended in my mind, the image of a madman before me
Where there is nothing spirit now create!
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