Landscape of the Current

I have whispered my good deeds to many gods.

Brought forth honesty,

Conjured an image so accurate it broke upon its own reflection,

Twirled broken glass between fingertips, 

Careful not to look too hard. 

Here we have seen action tying my body to reason,

Have given clearway for a moral path 

To dock somewhere close. 

Land anchor, cutting the rope leaving a single strand-

Knowing that when the time is right, escape is close.

I have stacked my limbs upon earth, 

Pulling knees close,

Balancing on gravel packed roads.

How it must be impossible to dig through?

The motion of moving 

Has created hardship,

Has put aches in ghost bones.

Phantom pleasures have persisted, 

Catching me off guard in their dire appearance. 

Wistful, 

What would become of me,

If I was discovered to be a cheat. 

Goodness and godliness are both subjective

So to pledge one to another,

To tie interchangeably, 

Is a blasphemy all on its own.