The Hidden Simplicity of the Macabre
Hidden deeply in the disparadised mind;
Lays a spot where hope fails to rise.
Disapprobation of crosses, crescents, and stars,
Eidolicly veiled over our internal scars.
Reason allows and insidiously leads,
through the ghastly realm of immortality.
Saints may follow, yet will never lead;
Zealously trying to help you regain your blind normalcy.
This and that may temporarily ease the sore.
The material bliss is quickly lost, once again aware of
Your place as times required whore.
Oh! With the outmost certainty, even the worms
Will succumb to the rot of eternity.
Copyright © Jeron Adams | Year Posted 2011
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