Cadavers staged in mock-repose

win no reprieve, but decompose

religiously as sacrice does fail.
No panacea lights the way.
Plot overstays. We court delay.
Against the arc, the monster, none prevail.
From heads sunk low in morning gruel
(the candle, long a stolid pool),
a sound emits --cruel habit's abject wail.
Jaundiced Dawn
by Norman Ball
Avert your eyes? Youll miss the game.
No matter. Time returns the same
unerring serpent, Onan, mouth-to-tail.
A bottled ship on stillborn sea
enjoys more freedom. By degree,
each soul bemoans its ornamental sail.
Discoverys of rote design.
Fate circles back to stage the crime
repeatedly. Heroics can't prevail.