no title


by Jonathan Hunter-Kilmer

splayed flesh without its sinews close

this bone in his do you suppose

the bodies lie in blood not theirs

as evil flies and smashes snares

afar we look and bleed inside

what's yet to come, who could not hide

who will not resurface again

(alive)

nor will the hopes of friends

in You alone our peace and hope

and flagging all attempts to cope

I ride into the night to help

the boy who cannot breath himself

and if the sky should fall en route

thus greatly shorten my commute

I'll feel Your kiss on eyes and face

and hands guide me to my last place

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