APOSTASY

So the seer gave a prophesy,

Of a million war lords come to reclaim a dame’s honor
With these single questions mapping their famished trails
Of deaths come to reap the seedlings of our growth on stones.

Are you a Christian?
Where you a Muslim?
Does it matter if I am?
Does it matter that I was?


A sole flutter flailed a dying truce of giggles and shrills
Unheard by deadened unyielding hearts.
So I gather these notes to read at this burial of rights.
These notes for a conscience at

this funeral.