pilgrim fashion

Fiction has no jurisdiction
A fleeting move becomes the show
As well as chance beget the flow
To harvest what was sewn back steadily

Without progress there is nothing to attest
Vacancies and hypocrisies loitering carefree
Where is the garnished gem of which we sought to defend?
Back beyond the briars and the old scattered snow

Falling down as we swiftly plummet
No one can ignore this ruckus
Ignorant or not there will be much to surface
And it will be daring – be wary

Splattered paint and hapless trash feign the only words we cannot speak
Used like the worst form of symmetry ever beheld to me
We cannot sleep
Without heat
Beneath

And though it carries many blessings
There are the wounds under my dressings
Plentiful as luck would have it
Make a strike solely out of habit
And pray once more
Then shut your door on me