Pity the Orphan

 

Conceive the loss,

and ask,

“What fell affair,

must outcome drive

these lost, forgotten souls?”

They perceive our destruction

in our carriage.

 

The lame expense their worry

and elucidate their sorrow;

a contrivance,

derided by their name.

So, we might never wont

for fetid tinctures,

nor drink the sickening light

of their domain.

 

For us;

the children of exhumation,

never walked those sorry paths,

nor falsified our distain.

There was no destruction

that quartered us in shadow,

nor malign intercession

that sheltered us nigh.

 

These mortuary affectations,

nocturnal and neglected,

are no refuge,

but our birthright

and our bedchamber.

 

Let no deceptive tear

fall for our nation.

Let no unsolicited yearn

for our salvation quicken.

There existed no Heaven

for us to be abandoned by.

This exquisite absence

is where we’ve called “Home”.

 

 

HG – 2021

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