The Way I See It, a poem by Godfrey Holy at
Michelle Spollen

The Way I See It

The Way I See It

written by: Godfrey Holy


our hell has found
a voice
we are cleaning
promises with
a hose of fire

and why weep over
spilt lies?
these cold breaths
in empty caskets,
these deaths we’ve
always lived

here we dress the devil
in Sunday best
we let him roam free
in the tempest,
unseen, unheard just
like our
raging regrets

we’ve had the most
beautiful of
who will garnish them
keep fragrant the
aroma of despair
over seared life,
these naked aches of
bone and mind,
these neverending
elegy of loss
and lore
must now flee
into the naked night
like a prodigal bat

we are not hunters
we’ve lost our
rifles to the horror
of truth
we are the hunted
followed by dreams
discarded at dawn
we run from
ourselves, terrified
of our own antlers

we lost the ending
when we couldn’t
agree on a beginning
tilling barren
land at midnight,
sweet nothings that
flooded where
they should have

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