Within doctrines of the former realms
Secular atonements when you cannot reap
Our distorted narratives no longer at the helm
Parched souls shudder when you cannot sleep
Notebooks wrapped in twine, lubricating my dreams
Thinly veiled entitlements, rushing to meet the golden hour
Misplaced refugees; tugging on our heart seams
Stomp on rose colored lenses/before the vine turns sour
Standing tall amidst populism, still reading banned books
Rejecting capitalism before you win a shopping spree
Your enemy’s dilemma might be worth a look
While upholding the realization of love’s prophesy
Embracing goblets of celebratory wine & errant notes
Time to return to glory; fire dance upon wooden boats
Captain Q 