assasin

There are some whose words stir me:
Mark Helprin my unknowing mentor.
Solomon Grundy my unknown friend.

---
For your words
I still brave space
And find I am not disappointed
To arrive at the dissolution
Of your thoughts to paper
I gather them up
Reading the maps you've drawn
And prepare for myself the second coming
Unholstering my weapons
For once again, I am aware—
A shooting star
In its very failing
Its falleness, its falling
Is far more interesting
Than the brightest, most steadfast point of light
Ever will be
To the naked
Eye of the beholder

I am beholden!

overcome

Got a bit of a Coen Brothers feeling today.
Revisited and revised an old write.

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I bought a gun,
A great big one,
To kill the monster beneath my bed.

"Oh! please come!
Let's have some fun!"
Is what the terrible beasty said.

But I was done
With the lying son,
And that's just what I said.

He tried to run
From my great big gun;
So I blew off his head.

(There are some
This may stun—
That I preferred the finality of lead.)

I destroyed all his forms
Till there were none
Then watched him as they bled.

But when it was done,
When I had overcome,
I found I missed the dreams he'd read.

And in the sun
I dropped the gun,
And a shroud about him spread.

Now all alone
I sit and mourn
That all my fears are dead.