Slab of Life

It’s a long walk life,

up high peaks,

over hot coals,

always looking over

my shoulder for strife,

the chill of the knife,

I held in my hands,

it commands, it damns,

blood that spills, draws the lambs.

I’m there, 547 steps up

this long life-the high peak

half sky high, if your meek

don’t even stand, the soil

of this ancient land

fills my lungs with the fire you seek

but I only look to wage peace so

I demand you cease this desperate plea

for another proverbial piece of the pie.

Stop the lies, I know

we all compromise, but

when you get to the top all ways go




Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s