His sigh rippled through his body.
Instead of deflating, he shook,
full of feelings he couldn’t brook.
Exhaustion and anger diminished him.
Guilt made his coordination shoddy
and the glass slipped from his hand
But to his surprise, he could easily stand.
He rid himself of warmth, limb by limb.
The chill was easier to embody
A losing battle between the heat of the devil
and a detached icicle that remains level
despite Doctor gravity’s every whim
They said his grief was gaudy
“How can you grieve that villain?
She died in her deserved prison.”
He could remember the words verbatim.
The words of an insufferable busybody,
weighing in on the love story
between Power and Glory,
the two heartbeats a battle hymn.
