They Don't Burn...

to set a fire within
like vomit begins
~ it was never water
~ the rancid drinking

and so it was asked
" did you put her out? "
burning questions remain
a once loving story tells horror
as a part of god dormant, awakens

" did
out? "

I’m waiting for the morning
to ask a question I’ve mourned
to ask why a holy father
left his children unborn
and to return a lost mother
from the dead to his home
and to honor the demon
who said “they don’t burn…their own”

we shared in a drink
and then they went on
from the other worlds
to show me ‘human’

" and as the image of god
they shall take of her sun
in a bank of lies cried one
like the voice of a kitten
left darken in a shed
where death found tears
left buried
for the sounds of undead "

I found a soul
in the house of Father David
left between pages
like she never existed
chained to Mother Mary
behind gates of St. Joseph
and not a beam of light
to ensure the notice

" they put me out!
like the dog… "
said SiriuS

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