The Comedy of Errors

The Comedy of Errors
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Asleep beneath the streets of Ephesus,
the elder trader fears no ghosts
while whispering the daylight’s song
into the hearts of bones revived.

Pax.

+Crux Sacra sit mihi Lux!
Nunquam draco sit mihi dux!

Pax.

Vade retro Satana!
Nunquam suade mihi vana!

Pax. Sunt mala quae libas! Ipse venena bibas!

Gloria Patri, et Filio, et Spirutui Sancto
sicut erat in principio et nunc et semper
et in saecula saeculorum.
Amen.

Taking names, shaking spears, and freeing from pinches,
Michael

P.S. We squish bugs…