Wind Over Matter

I’m unperturbing motion
Lingering in solipsism
As if my veins carried time
And in the prose of red wine
My volatile roots find echoes
Of corrupted waters
Of malignant soil
Dazed in the turmoil
The weight of the crowd
Does not tip the scale
Only the searing voice
Speaks the harrowing truth
To the orating listener
Self-taken to court,
Self, taken to court.
By the prayed wind God’s kiss
Carrying pirates’ ship to port
The captive pilgrim was saved
For the kind world’s never
Unwavering in raising a seed
Craving to escape the nether