There is blood in the wind
unknown why, unknown where it will lead
the moldy metallic smell gives cause to object
for some reason withheld from my thoughts my eyes wont close
for some reason withheld from my thoughts my eyes wont shed a tear
how is it that my soul remains content
What is this new content
somehow depravity and my heart wind
righteousness and good rent and tear
letting this unknown lead
close, too close,
I don’t know but I must refuse, I must object
what is inside this soul that has become nothing but an object
this new thing that is forcing me to call it a soul, what is its content
this new soul’s hands will not close
this new soul’s speech rides on the back of the wind
this new soul’s heart has the heft and poison of lead
my old eyes still will not shed a tear
Take it from me even if it means you have to rip and tear
beat it out of me with a dull and blunt object
this new soul is poison, I will reclaim my lead
with this new soul I will not be content
There is blood in the wind
it comes to close
to close
this new soul will not have my tear
riding in the wind
I will object
I will not be content
I will not let this new soul lead
I lead
I will make all open paths close
I will craft the content
out of the tear
that object
that refuses to ride in the wind
Blood is the content of the wind
As it draws close, my tear becomes its desired object
As it draws close, it leaves me because I refuse to abdicate my lead.
©Christopher F. Brown 2014
