Medals on your chest,
        exact as my fact. Day of
        days: loneliness close to you,
        Captain, debts befriend memories
        always forgotten.

        Your body wakes to your own slavery:
        sharp invisibility of your own punishment...
        unusual risings of your righteousness.
        Our difference is the blame you hold
        for all dishonor and disgrace, the betrayals

        of the earth's form you can never repay,
        dark, and dissipated...through the same
        unawareness that saints and angels fall.

        My existence is clothed with peace! Bent
        by your own chaos, your unimportance
        is without measure.

        Your prisons will be your own torture, your cruelty
        your very demise. No one and no thing
        will always be your servant, Captain.

Copyright © Ramón E. Martinez, 2005.  All Rights Reserved.