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Steady Soles.

Picked the locks on the gate,
entered the cemetery,
found the tombstone.

Hands dirty.
Dug up the bodies.
Subjected each to autopsy.

Hands vermillion now.
Destroy to understand.
Reading history like the rings
on a tree to find recurring premature

expirations that serve
as warning signs.

Fuck me. Check out
my sacred filth,
this blessed dirt
procured from the sore.

Fuck me. Fuckity-fuck
it all passed hell.
Seems as though
I’ve been here before.

Suppose you were right:
and how!
Guess you were right all along.
What now?

Understanding leads to transient possession.
Truth, revelation, inspires revival, awakening
of the true and inner Self,
my dawn of immortality.

Breaking out of caskets,
clawing through the earth,
steadying soles on sacred soils,
breaking new ground.

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