House of Man

A figurative tenant rests
in the house of man
recoils amongst
the tundra
of a dry and
brittle hand
He sits
in the stalls,
in corners
of the land
he calls to
brittle veins 
tallow hearts
and proverbial
brigades.
In this
house of man
we are made
to vaguely see
that oft blighted
dreams lead
to subtle misery
And still we call
to therapy
to clean up
all the rooms,
the dust left
by the shadows,
by our internal moons
So, here I call to acceptance,
surrender, and to old
forgotten friends:
help remove the cobwebs
then help me
put them back
again.

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