But For God I'M Alive... (At Length Of Time To Whom?) Poem by Steven Drake

I've come to believe otherwise than just a dream.
No proud marries that sleep with your enemies.
Especially if he's supposed to enforce the law.
Not sacrificing my conscience for her Green Card
out of the North Sea. Learning how to speak
German only compelling to me. Beyond the
heights of tomorrow whisked away…

Stealing years in stories out of LA. Cities
burn down to their earthquakes. Confidential.
Preyed upon in back rooms. Hell's fiery infernos.
Denied by the nights shaking beds up. Fearfully
where I should have never gone. Intuit.
More in songs in throngs of weeping willows. Counting
on whom contagious? with poisonous tongues.

No one I've known has followed the rules. Breaking down
my words heard across the world. No one forthright
out of deep, dark shadows. For an eye on the eagle's
red, white and blue. Stricken by war games. No white flags
for any truce. Buildings fall. Suspicion.
Intriguing to whom? Out of Chicago's Seaman
Agency. And right back here at home.

Embittered spirits think they rue the days of my
thunder. Stealing hope in crosshairs targeting me.
Of course the public has been deceived. But who cares?
In realms of unspeakable greed. While they're being
interviewed. Behind the scenes they're not who
you think they are. Falsifying the evidence.
I alone have real experience.

If this were a song. I'd be believed out of hordes
of barbarians. But no one cares about the truth.
A per plots of ploys of stealth. Damaging my
character's integrity for unimaginable wealth.
Thinking I'd be killed right out of the womb.
Where no safety abides in this entire world.
But for faith in God I've survived to write this.

Long heights. Fallen skies. Masked robbers.
Disguise. Crimes without punishment. No
Argus eyes. No universal conscience that
believes in lies. Killing truth. I'd like verified.
Severely victimized. Weight on my shoulders.
Crosses I bear. For all whom are skeptical
without compassion's empathy, heretical.

Second sighted. Infamous. Fortuitous to whom?
That cherish the truth they'd like to know. River
of dreams. Undertows. Evil in the making selling
their souls. Darkness in valleys of death exposed.
Risking life, limb and property. Just to have a
mind to do so. Even though they've gotten away
with impunity's false piety. Hedonistically.