Thursday, September 4, 2014



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

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