Upon this day all of beauty hasn’t been used, and is ready. The sky remains, and the lord’s of abuse gather their swords to plunge inside green reason, the heart of charity; sun, rain, quake.
Stunned and slack-jawed, death dies long before it’s prepared to leave. It catches up to all of us, lifeless flowers lodged in our gape, etching the soil with a graveness uncalled for.
The eternal skied beams have cause for grief. My kind drafts his fate in delusion strapped to an empty pate.
© 2012 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark and Michelle Prime
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