My soul is the arc angel of lost memories.
The thoughts of the dead brained and deceased conformists.
My soul tastes the defeat of the lost; a taste that isn’t sweet –
Except to the governed.
My soul carries the scythe of despair and lack of will.
My soul commemorates the reality of those who fought.
My soul is the taker of the deceitful, scalps the ass of those
who speak likewise to their feral excrements.
My soul knows the truth of everlasting light.
It knows the despair, but also knows the truth of joy.
My soul is the wielding slayer of avarice and sin.
My soul is me.
© Matthew Castillo, 2011
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