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Sanguinary Lord

A severe façade of loving tolerance Dipped in an argentine semblance The Consuls of The Cross Weaving a sweven of Welkin Where the checkered ones Are never allowed Their souls cast into the flames Of a greater decay The never ending pit Of eternal torment You turn the other cheek The one that wields the clandestine dagger The dreams of being free grow lighter and light The truth is shrouded by sister-Night Clinging onto existence Never eluding the resistance I will never adhere To your Sanguinary Lord Bestowing The Crusader’s reign Against the sand and the desert’s wane Barraging him over the frame In desperation to appease Screaming and shouting I will wash away your sins Decadence of the ones to throw the stones The ones to enforce the book Has left your lies dry and ready to die No more tears are left to cry No more screams are left to scream No More blood to be split No more graves to be dug

Copyright © | Year Posted 2012




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Date: 5/8/2012 9:46:00 AM
A pleasure to read your poetry today Wyatt. I will try to come back later this week to read more. I have a spring cold and not up to reading for too long. Have a wonderful week. Love, Carol
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