Chasing the hound of heaven

The three tongued hound with fleet fire feet
slips its sung siren song down dusty throats
of starving heaven bent men who weep curse plead
and follow it.

Bearing brittle edged glass cracked years
in deep-bitten spitted souls
spent long and far
the song chars burns beckons kills.

Ragged run men sing slim victory of hunt-
flung years faded in feeble triumph
to stark standing stillness,
the chase worn smile slips falls shatters.

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~ by Mark Neal on December 6, 2009.

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