Strung
In increments of times unsung,
pure truth, belittling or restrung.
I string my passive rights, succumb
before my eyes - thus wanting's strum -
Is justice - and the world's dull hum
is sleeping, like a broken drum.
There in my heart - still beats up come,
thee mine, thee mine - thee, loving's one!
My only constant, sung, not strung,
thee lifted by God's most willing rung.
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