We Move and Do Not Move

I take the tale as it is told.
I am but a passive listener.
I breathe flames and rime
A song of salt and rust.

I spin no tales of gods or men
There will be no takers of time.

A mere pittance do I offer,
A life of mortgage and loss,
Hours in thrall of a dead-eyed king,
Hoping for an absent Christ,
A thought, perhaps, to quell the flame,
A chance to make of void something new.

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~ by Benji on 31 August 2014.

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