Under Seige

Zach Wag­n­er

Lad­ders of love lifted
to scale lofty walls,
I tip mas­sive cauldrons
of boil­ing apathy.

A bat­ter­ing ram carved
into the shape of friendship,
can­not break open gates
built to keep this keep empty.

Out­stretched hands
are grap­pling hooks,
by which they seek
access to my lone­ly redoubt.

For the sake of my soul,
they bat­tle to break in.

For the sake of my heart,
I fight to keep them out.

Zach Wag­n­er lives on Florida’s gulf coast. He some­times dreams of run­ning away to join the cir­cus, but then remem­bers his patho­log­i­cal fear of cot­ton candy.

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