Crucibles Poem by Prince Rodoki

Whilst my life aches it cannot break
It boils, brawls and brews brittle flake
Mutant dreams that refused to speak
All pulpy, squashed, one ungroomed teak
Heated true naivety winged well
Flown to roost where many hopes dwell.

Whilst the weaned hate they cannot choke
The flagrant poise of love like smoke
Must to waver like a wager
But the quest to live is larger
Brisked up by poignant songs unsung
Hauled in as mordant wits unmourned.

Whilst our hopes doubt they cannot roost
The pliancy of time must boost
Or maim or kill our sodding fear
Heated blue we kill with no tear
The gaunt tentacles of our faith
True oracles false men must hate.