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Words, Vows and Squawks
A faint hearted silhouette,
Of a life once thought,
Surveyed the silent terrain
Of a forest plot.
Searching for creeds
In the bones of deeds
Her net came up empty
Only whispers were caught.
A canon of dreams,
Battles of air,
Toothless virtues,
Knuckles gone bare.
Damning a fight,
Stood a farmer trembling,
With fear he looked
At a rabbit’s cold stare.
A word adorned
In glory diamond frill
Longed for a text
To shine upon its bill.
Weaving in grammar,
With vain notes of a stammer
A loin cloth, a rag,
A fettered letter’s
Poisoned pill.
An immodest figure
Of hair-chested speech
Watched over squawks
Of birds on a beach.
Steaming in smothers
Of mosquito-like brothers
A bellicose vein
With nothing to leach
Bled profusely
For compassion to teach.
A steely vow thunders
At the grimace of night.
Speechless candle sermons
Brightens the light.
Wondering if dead means
Off with the head
A guillotine’s guilt
Came down from its height.
A voice of timber
Stood alone
Upon earth’s stage,
A guard with silent strength
A worker of our age.
Holding a wounded dove
With flower power
Tears of love
A woman revealed
How truth is concealed.
Daring to design,
At great risk of a fine,
She wove a garment
For our age:
Eden’s dress in brutal rage.
Copyright ©
Yorn Called
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