The errant path by Christopher Bruno

I stabbed the night square in the
back—
I was wearing a big
purple smirk.
then I decided it was again time to leave
for
another
town.

I had finally arrived at the place of
dead roads
broken, empty, and
free.
once again ready to mold myself
against all my pasts
and tomorrows.

there I stood
a simple patchwork of all my
beautiful sins and deeds
lacking morals
at least all the unimportant ones
they try and
force on
ya.

it was clearly time
to complete the errant path
to see it all the way thru
not to chicken shit out
like all
the
times before.

for I am
death
for I am
the screaming wall
for I am
the errant path—fumbling
in
blues.