Such artistry
In my veins
Is protection
From every emotion
Against those
Who scathe this spirit
And ravage belief
With their words

As imperatives
Based on each line
Denied by a world
Seeking answers
Among false gods
Never showing
Some heaven
Existed at all

Like plagues
Without any proof
But our progress
Biblically challenged
By collapsing skies
Growing hotter
Or the constant cold
Getting worse

Where daily droughts
Only speak
Through promising clouds
Always passing
Before that rain
Even opens
Upon bad ground
We have sown

Across dry lands
Facing death
Implied by sun
Nearly blinding
Those whose rhymes
Provide solace
When lyrical storms
Offer cures

Now nourishing blood
Keeping faith
And beautifully held
Deeply shielded
So infectious lies
Never enter
Some sacred space
Still alive.

• J. Pigno