Lived Deified a Lemel

Your destiny is printed in the stairs,

In clear ink beyond mortal gaze – natures right,

It unravels by step like Deacon’s prayers,

To purge latent dreams from the endless white,

Where ways one are encircled by the wall,

An erection to save me from the fall.

A silent silver waits but some do fall,

To soon with wings of wool worn by the stairs,

Rash thought thrashed wrought minds beyond the wall,

Whelmed by wherewithal our promised right,

Specs painted gold in eyes of past placed white,

That guides forced fate refeeding us our prayers.

Fate does not fatigue so why waste my prayers,

I know I will reach the top – I can’t fall,

Others do, you don’t help. Leave it to white

Words on white paper and walk. It’s the stairs,

Like stars that see we rise forever right,

Around a pillar planted within our wall.

Myriads ahead, myriads behind. The wall

Holds rhymes of sapiens – marching prayers,

To pass class masses hawking ritual rite

Of precious things they know their right – fall. Fall:

Just a miscue, who me? Why me? The stares!

Stop the stares! Myriad! My raid! Per-sieve I’m white –

Kindred knives stuck in eyes unacclimatized to rise in white

Noise from illite boys with white toys tugging bight to blight walls

With the bony word of dogs ingrained in brains: real stairs.

Pains Icarus had to bear but with beams burned before flight: real prayers.

Real stares? Looks drawn by thin layers of lead to cloud their fall,

Fruitless, yet far from silver, so to satisfy silverless right-

The human here and hoard there were not right,

Transformed to machined moans, once speckled white,

Lost beside lethe – no heaven means no fall –

In heaps; one fate is scribed within the wall,

Yet none reject, though there be no granted prayers,

But one unsung myth reigns true – Beelzebub built these stairs.

I climaxed a fall from an unearthly right,

Now climbing stairs that will remain a white,

I am this wall: our inescapable prayers.

Lemel a Deified Devil