I'm coming home.

she's been to the sea and she's been more than free,
giving in to the tides' beckonings. And yet sensations flow--
the only kind of flow that comes from being fully known,
drowning all the screams of the poor yet proud drunkards
telling lies to the one who knew before I even told.

drink until wrongs seem right and pleasures laugh without authority,
speaking sweet nothings to willow trees who sacrificially give
toward your feeble efforts of saving a blanketed humanity.

i want to branch out into an almond tree
spreading seeds begging to die-
for a living comes from joyful deaths,
leaving remnants worth the traders' purchase.

markets bust with merchants bringing almonds raw from rooted trees.
Plant me near streams drawn to windy storms crying-

mercy please

mercy please

mercy, please, don't leave me.

Mercy came and mercy made even your strongest of men seem broken and tame.
what beautiful maidens dance when young men hold,
in disbelief that even the wildest of hearts
could bend into a love so divine and kind.

Pick me up into you for I fear infidelities will run their course
and I will be exposed with hidden whores locked behind rotting doors.

Back to work you lazy man, back to crunching in and punching out.
Back to weary men chasing empty criminals of their souls.
demanding you mask a faith that silences honest doubts.

I'm coming home to the almond tree sitting innocently at your door,
pleading, "let me in,
let me in,
let me grow from within all your open sores."