Poem 2: A Hallowed Golden Shell
To paraphrase Faulkner, whom I have barely read, do not be a writer, but instead be writing.
A Hallowed Golden Shell
Remembering to drown the light, we think
That even after all is said and done
We will have finally come to the brink
To stand before a gaping maw outrun
A crossroads where to spill the darkened blood
Of those we mold into fine shapes of clay
And thus we drag ourselves through filth and mud
We walk across the planes, come aught what may
But destiny looms over twisted paths
Winding through torrents terrible and fell
Behind closed doors we drown in silver baths
And find inside a hallowed golden shell
Take now this mighty boon bestowed on thee
And seek beyond what they can never see
© 2022 William Nadiz