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The Past That Haunts the Future

The past that haunts the future hangs flyblown, Still the fraying lariat chokes a larynx dead, And silences the words, still born, unknown To ears that should have caught the sentence said. Or some guillotine to hack Medusa's head, And sink so deep the corpse of cruel dreams, For what was done played havoc as it spread A virus to infect the virgin screams. It is this, the fusion of a plague of sin, In tandem with the rationale of blame; To come to terms and pluck the violin And apprehend the bestial hound of shame. For then, and only then, sweet love inflame And exorcise the taint from out the mind; Time for dirty deeds to cease to claim Dominion of the heart of one so kind.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2005

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