the sacred

the sacred

once held in feeble human hands lay the sacred
born of the quiet dreams nurtured and succored
as fruit from the woman’s lands without a hatred
to plot dire the schemes and anticipate a reward
watch the room in silence watch the sacred sleep
as shadows stretch across masking all that is true
aware of hidden violence trickling from the deep
counting gain counting loss numbers are askew
the sacred only barely alive breaths are shallow
sing songs useless prayers escape into dark night
a place where ghosts thrive and angels lie fallow
to peel off the dead layers as to expose the fright
as the soft sounds flutter expecting what is fated
a heart begins to shutter signs of life have abated