Without End

these are the days

of weary obedience

to the fearful edicts

of frightened men

we are yet savages

beneath our surfaces

and we hunger still

for reassurances

beyond our borders

so sit yourself down

to take sustenance

at your father’s table

take what you will

from what’s offered

not by violence

but through love

and the good grace

of your lesser demons

the aching hours

drone into eternity

and we are alone

inside closed eyes

within our memories

our pain has no past

our pain has no future

our pain has only now

in days without end