I Pray It Haunts Hereafter

My flesh and bones

Are owned to make weals

Callous and harden

In pursuit of my strengths

As it pliantly obeys follies

No true achievement

Was won in this life

Without doses of panic

Rage and hot hearts

Bent and broke over

Resolute purpose.

And flowing moment to moment

What words of worth are mine

Minute detail in the form gifted

And I made some small worth of

The physical vessel I can

Make half-art of

Which holds my soul until such

Life I cage is done

What song and scream I pray haunts the hereafter.

By J.W.H. Hobbs.