He Remains Dead Poem by James Long II
He Remains Dead
That space between, betwixt, behind
what's animal and what belies
to leave behind, cut and rend
the ties that bind to journey's end
What draws the blood and what hand guides?
No maps suffice. All idols lie.
Break justice, sunder, renew good.
Raise life, great Tao, where reason stood.
Muscles neath, let skin be flayed.
Find strength and forge forever's day.
Monday, July 29, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: change,future,soul
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3/12/2026 2:11:05 AM # 1.0.0
