the prodigal sun of the moon

The Sol Invictus so convicts us;
souls are simple brews and mixes
stirred about by what conflicts us,
solely whole through holy fixes.
Lessons left by ol fortuna
let us love the light of luna.
Less sons learn their father's tune of
lettuce leaves on tuna moons but
Sol Invictus cant inflict us.
Souls are soups that soon addict us,
stirred about by triple sixes,
sold in holes from Pluto's Nix and
written on the menu rightly:
"Free to All" and wrought with rites.We
earn the wrongs our souls contrite. We
urn our rot and play with wrights. The
Sol Invictus won't restrict us.
Souls are soothed by words that prick us,
stirred by suits of action mixed with
Sooth without the crucifixes.

Love is seen through our eclipses.


To Shawna.