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Peace!
Broken--oh god, broken
Thoughts grasping,
Clawlike,
For justification for living,
Vainly searching
I sit hopeless.
Adam-like,
I cannot join the Saved --
Having no faith,
I cannot recourse to god.

Damned! cry the shades of Abels
Damned! cry the shades of Cains
As Lokis of mockery
Offer darts of mistletoe
For Baldr.

We are the Damned,
The forsaken --
Lost innocence,
Long since taken,
Ravished,
Destroyed!
Once we were free --
Lost goodness
Now deflowered,
Sullied,
Deformed.

P. B. Alexander

Man's creations are like blossomed trees: beautiful
for a short time, only to crumple with decay.

'Frank Kidd

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