Immolating

Interrogation, outmoded,

the demoted torturer

suddenly realises,

Google surmises,

taxation – a myth

we wish

did not exist.

 

 

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Awe

When I am a relic,

my life become yore,

young gods will wake

and whisper of war.

 

When I am a memory

you cease to explore,

your gods will take

their leave like before.

 

When I am a legend,

grief’s guarantor,

the gods you forsake

will forgive the flaw.

 

When I am a myth,

dismissed and no more,

old gods will break

Like waves on the shore.