Arbiter

the Arbiter leaned over the back porch railing

and struggled to light a pipe in the middle of a thunderstorm 

lightning turned the sky blue in flashes and

he coughed up sand into the rain 

"No man holds dominion over love," He said

and the wind and the rain swallowed his words into a blanket of noise 

"No one holds dominion over anything anymore,

not themselves, not others,"

the smoke, too, was swallowed by the storm

thin snakes rising in slow curves and swept away

"This is a forsaken world

I have forsaken it."

A strong gust whipped at the Arbiter's back

and he dropped his pipe into the wind

shrugged off his jacket and

hissed as the cold bit in to his skin 

those who take shelter from the storm

will never know its true beauty 

only those who walk out into it 

only those willing to be consumed 

will be able to see its vast face

how the sky, too

looks down upon the earth 

with a great sadness in her eyes