Withering frames

On the fragility of mind and purpose
circa..2004/2005 from Lexington, SC

On withering frames of mind
and flesh, we toil—in subconscious slumber—
disappearing into the
realm of nebulous menaces.

Wearing fake facades over
faces of fear, and
meddling in the
manifestos of men, and

harboring festering hearts,
feckless,
impersonating the personal,
and likening self to all.

But victories come in
scraps of moments,
seen only through magnifying glasses
of piercing focus.

Where moment is, and
forgiveness begins—
subduing wretched parts of
flesh that work to our demise.

And from withering frames of mind
and flesh, we retire—to subconscious slumber—
weary from the battle
and thankful for the challenge.