Homunculus

August 20, 1998

Hammers, knives,

Razors, scythes -

Bring them on!

Even the gun.

Homunculus, I gladly beam at you,

for you are undetermined.

Silent distinction nabs your features,

And you play the hokum's tune.

What is it like to be that person

Astranged from all of terra's souls?

What is it like to always escape from

human nature, human nature that

controls?

Being is well,

But it is also a cell.

Delight not everyone has won -

Homunculus, you don't have to

feel a thing.

You are blank to this nature, you

are none.

Where I live, to feel the feel-good,

and never, ever will I do...

Homunculus, my mentor, I kindly

take to you;

For those who care less for my voice,

Do clearly make your choice:

Grip every weapon, first, the aforementioned;

Sluice, shoot, hew, spike, and pummel

me, too, if it will drain or ease your tension.

But to face the aftermath, then.

Truly know the blood you soak in...

This place I'm in, living in, isn't

kneaded into the most tragic,

But, Homunculus, you wanderlust,

to possess a taste of your magic.

Hate-mongers could

possibly see what's true,

but in my heart is the arrow

of an archer.

Made to fade. That's you.

I can only marvel at your your

departure.

© 1998 Jarrod C. Lacy