Today is a day, oh, to blow away

the fragments of losing on the inside,
when the sun is shining at the affray
between blinding light and the blinded knight:
He attacks with a lance from left to right,
he revamps his attack with rapport,
between man and a cause, bereft and alight
of love and what conscious natures assure:
His fealty is fallen, he’s filthy and squalid
but blind because he cannot see what’s befallen
dreams and dotes turned to screams and smear quotes
tossed through screens of thick ropes, thick like beams:
He sighs because from his art’s deepest part
he knows that his love still sears for his heart.
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