Withering Blooms

I am naked
Sacred
From untold yesterdays

As pieces of me
Litter the tomorrows
Of our daydreams

Forged upon the tongues
Of demons
Scattered as seeds
Upon the conscience
Of those serene

As I laugh
At those infected
And pity those
Who prophesies
At the alter

Gathering storm clouds
Arrange the melancholy
Addressed as our saviours

Don't waste your tears
On the insanity
Of the second chance

Fingers of light
Address the yet born future
Colouring the beating hearts
Scarlet from the withering blooms