Kill me with your words
of kindness, abruptly torn.
Starve my soul
of presence, gone.
Deceive, aggrieve,
repent until you’re done.
Then knock on wood,
ere hope shorn.
Belittle love in guile,
Oh! errant knave,
Abstain from pleasures true,
behold the grave.
For want of trust,
belief in price once paid,
confusion lies, bereft
at words unsaid.
Oh, honesty and kindness
where art thou?
Gods lie, distort,
question here and how.
A game of chance,
splendoured by each season,
false deities exposed
to truth and reason.
If truth be told,
expose your soul to me,
no hidden heart
but kindness guarantee.
Should deities redeem
all that they could,
we, mortals, pray and fast,
then knock on wood.
scottishmomus 