I-D-Clare WAR

Even I am afraid
of the judgment
that flows from
this pen like blood
apparently mightier
than I care
to admit

(self) righteous
indignation
not just(ice)
but it feels good

I slice the veil
tearing it to shreds
pulling aside the curtain

I feel the need to
expose it all
and myself in the process

But they're angry
inflammed

Did I expect them
to thank me
while I stare at
their naked shame
spotlighting their (my) limitations

No one told me though...
who judges the prophet
wielding the sword?