The Bottle Imp

I have schemed with a god’s intentions

Moved the glowing green of a sunbreak

Onto trees

Traced supple designs so intricate

They were maddening

So delicate that my face was permanently shamed

Having given grace to a murderer

Stolen from a beggar

I've tripped through life

With hardly any thought

For the looming

Sooner

Than I would have liked

And I regret every single moment

That I've bought myself