Joseph O'Keefe​

Last Dance Resolve

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The waning gods

Have a last-dance resolve

That no one should pity

Or find pathetic

 

They themselves

Believed they were everything

We told them they should be

Eminent

Omnipresent

Omnipotent

Infinite

 

How many souls they terrified or consoled

Was never the point 

They just needed a quorum and that

They got and then some

 

I have never fully understood

Why priests and shamans adorned

Themselves, mostly in bold colors

Blood red, indigo, cerulean

Dappled gems

And gouged out the hearts of innocence

 

Wordplay is

More ephemeral than fragrance

More communal than death

More credible even than blood 

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