Un-Particular (poetry)

The Guilty And The Innocent

I

A parched desert of achingly
Arid lungs fracturing into one's
Own image, crumbling skies
Holding no water for thirsty
Souls to parlay and to pillage.

II

Innocent voices whispering in halting
Breaths, 'I don't understand'.
While careless smiles and unthinking
Minds close the shutters and roll down
The blinds.

III

Beautiful flowers of poisonous perfume
Clouding the air, unfurled by human hands
Of foolish flair.

IV

For the peccant side-step the penitent
In a seamless waltzing glide, dancing
Over the simple and the artless, entwined
In heedless vines of another's wayward
Whims of tethered mortal tides.

(98 words - A flash fiction Friday challenge)