And you Mother, Grandmother, Great Grand-Mother, I give back your love. I return it that you might send it to another more in need. I breathe my love into your gasping lungs. I give it all back, save enough to keep me from falling headlong into agony…
(Now is agony, the hell of humankind’s creation.)
Tomorrow must be peace. Tomorrow must be Love. Mustn’t it? Am I not held accountable for my actions while I’m living, more than where I believe I’ll end up when I’m dead?
(“None shall get to heaven by deeds alone.” “The earth is the Lord’s and everything in it.” What of these verses?)
My actions have spoken so much louder than my love. I couldn’t hear my own gnashing of teeth and pulling of hair because the agony between me and Love was too great for me to fathom. Stop.
(Silence…)
© 2012 by mark richard prime
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