When folly quits to stir
Warm in the prickly heart
And inflames no more
Bare my soul and an arm
Swollen and tattoo-crossed
Self-made crown of thorns
Over the sin of my forefathers
Rage seeps from the bones up
Spreads its toxic fever bubble.
Try to suppress the humors deep
And the hidden tumor will burst,
Break the lips and shatter
On a unrelated but fated day.
To sublimate only serves to
Silt the reddish ire in the veins
Deeper ore still and unreachable.
Claw at the pain but cannot
Scratch away the inky deeps
It seeps into the life streams.
But there is another choice.
To see another's blood spilled
And split the ground with joy
Uprooting the old evil paths
That run me through and through.
Redeeming me from mark of Cain
When folly quits to stir.
2 comments:
Rich and thought-provoking. Much enjoyed.
C'est vraiment vrai.
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