Unwashed By Sins

Life had tossed you in 
flames. 
Like hearthstone, I sit 
deleting my colors. 

Time on black feet 
runs, on the sacred 
river bank. 

Molten lava will ask 
when, and from where 
the funeral procession will start. 

A hard core wants 
the evidence of rape. Two 
leaves will not cover 
the naked aggression.

The spooky game had 
become, ultimately― the biopic. Once 
angles used to roam 
on the burning coals.