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Saturday

 

Saturday

 

It aches…

Innocence fights to clear its name

Till it dies

Murdered by the eyes

 

--

\

 

I preserve my prayer

For invisibility

In solitude

Where faith resides

 

--

/

What’s left

A cigarette filled ashtray

The sound of a burning spear

Song

Without the verses

Postmodern

Commodity

Old

 

But where in this bureaucratic world

Is the warriorpoet’s cry?

 

--

_

 

In silence?

In swallowed screams?

In castrated dogs?

In ragged children’s tears?

 

One is always a child

It's the only one who can lead

 

Not an adolescent

A slave to sex

An infant who survives

Embryonic blows

 

-

=

Forgotten cuts

One thought invisible

Multiply

Like eyes

 

 

 

Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2026.

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