Empty Shells Poem by Job Laz

I
In my heart I mould the priceless
Wonder that busies time
With my words I levy the bragging of fools
Posing like the Eastern star drawn across a bloody sky
II
Where is your might?
Where is your breaking grip that ceases my throb?
III
In my silence I quash the jittering of proud knights
Rally in skull fields
With my monumental like scream
I tear down the edges of their snooze
IV
Where is your denuded sword?
Where is your swing for the kill?
V
For like nuances of old wives
I hear them bleat terror
As I cow in fear of their imbecility
Their cowardice racked abroad like smoked fishes in the sun