Chatelaine

Pleasantries Gentle temperament Shimmering veil of innocence Turns the cheek Heard but never seen A fragile tranquility Pervasive notions of doubt are kept at bay The shepherd’s sewn-shut eyes obscure the flock’s been led astray Empty promises Red herrings You’re all so full of shit Beggars can’t be choosers when their throats have all been slit Deaf to their weeping Deaf to their pleading Spare me your misery Righteousness comes at the cost of your rote isolation Left to rot Crooked fingers puppet thee Widening the cracks in your piety Irrelevant Ordained to be forgotten Nothing but an ancillary footnote lost in the pages of a finer servant’s life All for naught You clasp your hands before the altar, opaquely culpable “Are the sins of the child reflected on the unassuming mother?” Cold, unfeeling silence drones in reply “Suppose I’ll atone another day”