As lips part, unleashed dogs rip and wrought.
Choking on the tiniest thought.
That burn away nirvanic benediction.
And grabs the wood for your own crucifixion.
For a pox you are in eyes of scarlet tension.
A strangled lie of incomprehension.
That simmers to a sinner’s plea.
The fragile-ness of complexity.

Reblogged this on By the Mighty Mumford.
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Thank you Jonathan
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U. R. MOST WELCOME!
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😊
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Describing an epiphany, great poem.
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One that may take a while to appear. Glad you liked it.
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