I chased a martyr
through all hell’s heat
with intention to
ask him why
he’d run so long
he was tired and beat
in fact, he could
all but cry
I’d yearned for the moment
when at last we’d meet
and an answer from him
I would pry
and though he was worn,
we raced and he beat
and so I collapsed
with a sigh
Author’s Note: this is a very old piece, not sure of the date but it was in one of my first few poetry notebooks.
Copyright 2020
Magus
(Kevin Trent Boswell)
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Kevin Trent Boswell 