the texture of the teeming earth
is all the proof we need of lies;
each second thought, a second birth,
the sun, a way to cauterize
the wounds that we inflict amid
the casus belli of the day:
the wager, always underbid,
the silence, all we have to say.
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Tagged: Tags Alinear Dissonance Poetry
Published by Beleaguered Servant
Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.
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Thank you for sharing!
Can feel those words. Stay well my friend 🙂