Tag: vagabond prophet

Ruby Red

Will kill you dead.

Brilliant

Set in gold.

A family ring of old.

Reminds me of my blood

Where I come from,

The beat of my drum.

Now I’m the leader

With the ruby red ring,

Don’t try anything.

I protect my own

Everyone I love,

Silent as a dove.

I’ll come down from above

From the tree tops

Quiet as dew drops.

You won’t see me coming

But I’ll smell your fear

When I get near.

Don’t test me

I won’t ask twice

If you promise to play nice.

My family

Is my pride

And I won’t have them hide.

Ruby Red

Will kill you dead.

– Vagabond Prophet

Cleft Heart

vagabondprophet:


Early October when the bomb went off,

Tearing us apart.

A brother here, a sister there.

Scattered across the globe.

Like the shock had made

Roots suddenly disappear.

Wandering to find them again.

Something to anchor me to life,

And something to pretend

That none of this ever happened.

It was like walking under a tree

Green burning bright

Like a star in the night.

Until it drops its snow

Right down your back

And your spine inverts itself.

The snow no colder than

The snowball fight earlier.

But never expected.

I never expected any of this

I trusted you,

I loved you.

But after you left,

We didn’t talk for months.

You didn’t understand that.

How could you think,

Nothing would change between us?

When you tore my heart right out.

I was a child,

Not a liver,

I’m not that resilient!

Are you stupid?

Or can you just think

That wishfully?

Couldn’t you have thought wishfully,

About her too?

Build her up in your mind.

Something better than she was,

Instead of leaving me all alone with her,

The only boy around.

We were six!

Then just three,

Only boy was me.

Brothers dug for oil,

Money for their toil.

We all got new family.

Pretend it’s normal

This prefix ‘step’ for everybody.

A monosyllabic word for ignorance.

Did you have stinging nettles

In the corners of your mind,

Shrouding your secrets from yourself?

I didn’t know what a man was!

How could I instantly become?

I guess you didn’t know either.

I found a new father,

He’s never let me down.

He’s unshakable.

Yeah we talk now,

About the weather,

And the price of gas.

But it will never be the same,

I can’t think that wishfully.

I won’t struggle to get as close.

You used to hold me close,

Just to be near me,

I treasure the memory.

It was twelve years ago you left,

Twelve years with a cleft heart.

When you changed the definition of home.

I’m trying to be eloquent now,

But all I can think of,

Is just how much it hurt.

– Vagabond Prophet

Muddied

You spent too long in that forbidden land

Too many lungfuls of that water

To not be muddied by it.

Every time you cough

It still smells of deceit.

It’s true God forgives

I’m trying to do the same

But the problem is my nose

It works as good as ever

And the stink of deceit is still on you

From those years long ago.

– Vagabond Prophet

Code Blue

Code blue in the ICU

Chest compressions

Clear!

Yellow gowns

People crowded

At your departure bay.

Bed springs squeak

Chances bleak

At least you’ll look

Good in black.

No time to think

Just to react

Curtains closing

On your final act.

Natural progress of death

They told me

Organs failing

One after another.

Round two

Won’t be long now

Dangling from the line

Where fate and hope intertwine.

The family’s tears

Pent up for years

Comes rushing forth

The moment you flatlined.

– Vagabond Prophet

King David

Oh King David,

King of the land

Chosen one to spread the word.

How low you have fallen!

Even Kings are men,

And men are weak.

Hands moved to action

By deceit in our hearts,

And conviction wanes.

Did your spirit cry out

Against your flesh?

When you claimed her as yours

And murdered her lover?

Did any grain of wisdom

Resist the surge of want?

Or did it simply slope,

Beneath the weight of sin.

Your men were off at war

And you sat idle

Baring bitter fruit.

Your shoulders though broad

Could not bare the souls of men

Much less resist the evil one.

That came after you,

And somehow you’re called

A man after his own heart.

Curious, if

A murderer

Liar,

Adultering,

King,

Can somehow be justified,

Maybe there’s hope for me yet.

– Vagabond Prophet