What stays my hand

What stays my hand

From lending itself to the reaping

I yield

Sometimes bend

In toleration

Of overreaching

Symbols of destruction

Raining down

Whipped on a feckless wind

Driving recklessly

By degrees

I have withstood

Whether well

Or good

Is far from known

No one survives

Here on their own

Should I snap

Do I fear the breaking

As corn is cut

So we are separated

From each other

Tossed heads

Windblown husks

Are we but chaff

Left from a harvest

Afraid of an exclusion

From the

Gift of festival

When correction

Of misdemeanours

Is made with no allowance

Due diligence

Or process

Is that my reckoning

To be homeless

Nameless

Without

Virtue or foundation

When the time is come

To be recalled

Am I unknown

Even to myself

Will that be my undoing