In Manibus Tui

In Manibus Tui
Christopher Bogart

It is rotting like a decayed corpse,
Stagnating as a quiet pool,
Bathed in the oppressive heat
And humidity of the stale air.

It renders no sign, no feel
That it feels or has the power to feel;
Is moved or has the power to move;
To sense, or to command its senses.

Its eyes stare upward, transfixed
On layer after layer of empty air.
Its visage belies a curious smile
That relates, unknown to it, a curious satisfaction.

It breathes not.
The air has long since left its lungs.
No sign of warmth emanates from it.
No moisture clouds the mirrored blade.

It cares not,
For in caring, it cannot care.
It demands nothing,
And receives nothing in its turn.

And yet,
All elements of life hover ‘round it,
Like angels ‘round a sacred form,
Waiting for it to need a need to survive.