As Grace sat down over their beds and whispered,
"Dogs, can you move?
Can you run?
Can you watch the gates?"
But her jaws had long since been removed
by children scared of being chased
as they watched their mother's face
and wondered how their brothers grew into their slaves.
It's like holy water tossed into the air,
it growls a breath for earth
and the pale blood ruined and cursed life into the wicked
and a tide of angels was brought to life.
But the plagues of the mind ignore the land,
they're only grateful they marvel at the stars,
they don't wonder why they are
or when their days will start, they feel at peace.
I only wondered if the towers should break
If the tents should have no stake for just one night
would the line be shattered?
Can love be brought to court?
Can the fog of life endure or be brought to life?