Blue
The valor of veil-less VERITAS,
the pallbearer of coffined lies
that lie as high a wide, a hue the cloudless sky
Plural’d,
it paints a deep as low the base that carries
the hue that sits its songs of tears upon
Insignia of my soul – spiritual, tranquil
an existential indigo
without the god without the religion,
that keeps good watch my good soul
The cool heat thereupon the cold skin,
where devotion to warm it hands,
contemplation to contemplate what be the man;
trust, to trust to trust the brawn
to lie the lion still, soft to sheep
sheep to lie softly, safely, their good keep
the lion’s brawn
I am the hue of valor’d veil-less VERITAS,
the pallbearer of coffined lies,
the night’s last grasp, before letting go
it’s fading hold
the dawn
Neal Hall, M.D. © 2014
A somber ode of persecution.