poetry corner 024 – I have no pen, only my right to bear arms.

I am a sum of
Parts; places;
Empty spaces.
I have no foundations to defend.
I rule over no castle.
I am a master of none.
I call upon no steed.
I have neither quarry nor quarrel.
I keep no clergy as company.
Must we engage.
Battleground.
Poetic prophecy.
Harm none,
First… Then?
Tempered ruse;
Forges our past;
Radiated heart;
Never stops,
Nor ceases
Punctuated,


Occam’s Razor, Ever Sharp; effervescent presence.
Piercing all ground, with no sound.

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