Thursday, February 3, 2011

crucified, viable, despondent, vulnerable, purgatory, verity, balderdash – and everything in between

To my purity versus impurity
To my virtue versus degradation
As I grieve against treason
And I progress against impurities

I stand no chance
I have no weapons
To the onslaught of draught
Within this crossfire
Of identities

To the open wrist that speak back to me
To the flow that ends all abilities
To the ashes of reason
And everything in between

With for every township woe
And status quo ante bellum
Of which non-continuance
And non-survival
To which crime is rival
And no one is authentic

This hog has no faith
It chews its own timber
To prove to its master
That fools do not shiver

And how am I different,

from fools that do not deliver?

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