Bone Wars

Penniless, penniless
Two geniuses were made.
What man, being wise
Doth with perfect knowledge
Guess first all presumptions true?
For a mistake, friends were made enemies---
A moot mistake of pedantic dragons.

The sky is like the fumes of a furnace's smoke
The embers dashed upon the mountains.
The lightning flashes, the thunder's war,
The eerie Indian Rain casts ember's glow upon all things
Enshrouded by smoke.

Criticize me for a mistake I made,
But know I am not a god.

For the wickedness of the feud
Was theft, bribery and violence
For the sum of fortunes made by digging up bones.
Flash twice, thou lightning,
For two wicked foes
The thunder rolls.

I am imperfect, and should a man
Pour over my work to find
A detail wrong or a comma splice...
A "then" spelled for "than" or vice versa---
Do not be like Marsh and steal from me.
Do not pedantically search my words for a place to pounce.

I am not like Cope. I shall weep bitterly
For the fire in my heart would dim
Like the sunset's furnace.
The smoke of my cloudy sky would be snuffed out.
I have tried with all my prowess to give the summation of my thoughts.
For, I am a poet, not a historian.
I am a poet, not a scientist.
I only speak what is the science of the soul...
What are the Forms lying beyond this world.
And my science is accurate.
It decries the hidden wisdoms of the world.

Neifert, B. K.. My Collected Writings. Kindle Direct, (C)2021. pp. 403 - 404.