Qui Vive

– Who wishes to die before blowing out their candles?
Life is easy. Grapes need crushing, take off the sandals.
Make your own path, route it. Show the map a way out.
One price is paid twice. No one can soothe ones doubt.

The Priest has (no peace). The Pastor is ‘another sheep’.
The deep can keep the golden star. Please, let me sleep.
Soon, I fail. The day gets dark and a moon hides its hail.
Heavy breathing; I’m Mufasa telling Scar: “I’m slipping”.

Whichever way is forward, everyone is on the opposite.
The directions are in braille; so preconceptions are late.
We remain rivals! Dear Mother, stop translating Bibles.
I live wiser; on the qui vive. My Father did not leave me.

© R|CARDO.

— Ricardo Sexton