Even Keeled

We used to keep both eyes
on the parting crusaders
and litigate  
their multiple choice spells
gone  terribly  wrong
a couple of mutual oaths
had been left aside
for the mourners to petrify and enchant
away from the pebble-glass pavement.
Through the void of an unpatched infancy
I’ve been held prisoner
under a rainless cloud,
foreseeing the undisturbed stare of a young  angel,
cast down to the ground,
out of a heaven of infinite grace,
able to re-immerse in a deserved tranquility,
whose legacy of mundane perfection,
is willing to exorcise  the fairy-tale demons
and gladly unravel
an apologetic mystery.

An answer is in the heartfelt prayers or a first-person narrative.

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