Frailty

-Frailty-
by Keaton Foster



Frailty
The lady
Oddly named
Sickly
She seems
Weakness
She breeds
Her child
Only the one
Is near death
Gaunt
His frame
Hollow
Such a brain
His skin
Paler
Than most things
Rotten within death
His eyes, bulbous
Vacant portals
Into a mind
Of nothingness
There is bleakness
Then there is him
He, a machine
Incapable of feeling
Or understanding
Just mush
Saturated by
Thinly veiled threats
To its existence
Death
Will be soon
Time
Matters not
She alone
Will remain
Dare I say
Unchanged
She’ll confess
That all of it
Was in some way
A shared fate
A fool’s fool
Like she
Believes
That fate
Has such
Control
Nope
In anyway
Anyhow
This is not fate
Nor is it faith
It’s something else
Much darker
Increasingly sinister
Frailty
Repugnant indeed
Is such vanity
As if God above
Or the darkness below
Gives a flying fuck
Again I’ll express
My emphatic statement
Of disagreement
Nope
This is doom
Via choices
Made
And ideals
Laid
This is chemistry
Alchemy
Two bad seeds
Porous
And numb
Avoiding the signs
That procreation
Would be a mistake
They did it anyway
Because it felt good
Only at that time
Ever since
It’s been utter hell
Frailty
She is
And has been
Refusing to give up
To let herself down
To bring herself
To a level
Upon which
She could no longer
Fall
Be assured of this
She’ll never be
Anything but
Sickly…


Frailty
Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2015.