the letters have c
o
l
l
a
p
s
e
d
black holes threaten to swallow whole
any abstract word they attempted to create
even concrete words find themselves
endangered, drowning in the pools of
quizzes and lectures, having grown
weary from academic nonsense
the narrow views of those who think they
know more than the Omniscient:
chronic disease filling lungs with a
sickness worse than pneumonia
pretty piano music plays softly while
silver-tongued lies relentlessly reveal
their designs of attack on the Spirit
refuge is offered:
no latchstring is needed
to unlock some imagined bolt—
protection found
in the Word which never will collapse.
written for Monday Melting #19