The moral made plain
original poetry & photomanipulation
This reality is all edges:
& wrinkles like mirages seen
On the cusp of death in the desert.
The gem hawk circles and the hunter,
Robes donned, with up-sleeved guile,
Nocks an arrow to slay the last trace
Of divinity and devour its husk.
In fiendish rhythms,
Oh how the paradise fades!
Just so—as the chill of evening
Descends upon the sands, mottled dusk,
Advancing its umbrage over the baked plateau
Seems to nod its resignation with eyelids twitching.
(The acceptance of a phase alchemical is
The discrepancy between a demigod & the mortal.
The latter is convinced of the existence of evil
While the former sees only energy in formations.)
Writing & images
By 
3/18/18
Images createdBy photomanipulation of
Stock provided by Humblebeez
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