Rapidly Done In Poem by Michael Walkerjohn

Hot
nude
metal
please
all that is
of long gone
feelings; in these
eternal untruths that
surround death, gripping
your mind around what was
a loving home, the house inside
your self; empty and alone, longing
for that return to the familiar dirty myth
of marriage; that resource mined of silver and
gold, proved not to be but for the fools; who bow
to the separate, broken, and hard-hearted tools
using relationships as steps to material wealth
and not caring for the spiritual connections
between two reuniting souls… glamour
is the key and ring instead; used to
seal a pact, a contract, a coffin
entombing, two into such a
hardening coronary, the
ordinary and mundane
sunk in a vicious way
encircling reality
shirking we
killing me
rapidly
done
in