in the west and the east
in summers and winters
the eye sees a grey gloom
a hopeless struggle
past and present merge
hot iron and ice pit
torn parchment
tears flow down the gutter
no blessing on the child
scars on the virtues
hypocrisy and abomination
flows in the squares
graveyards on the fields
deathdance on the edge
torment in the nature
the ward is rampant
instead of fruit, disease grows
in once upon abundant gardens
clouded understanding
coagulated emotion
bittersweet love
half wormwood half jam
idolized coinpit
goldshined plastic silk
has webbed around souls
shapen the blade what for
if the opponent unarmed?
victory drenched in blood
pictures scratched into walls
comfort entangled in endless
deserved fear
though no one hears the warning of eras
:
if the pray is already mute,
why should there be forgiveness?
in unpurificated cases
patience is diminishing
and defense could turn into accusation
but can grace reside in just judgment
?
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