WhoDunIt

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Mystery romances the lost

Ginning what truth remains

of a seed

long after it germinates

.

Celebrating each revealed truth

As gospel

fresh from the makers lips

.

Until as fire purifies ash

is the acorn found

in the flames of reason

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Nail Cemetery

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With each strike of the hammer

The nail plunges deeper into the wood

Each hit concealing more and more

Leaving less and less to see

Until eventually the nail is gone

Pushed entirely beneath the surface

Never to be seen again

No mark or blemish

Where once stood iron

The hallmark of a skilled craftsman

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