Poetic

Dirty deliverance

The one half,
born to forgive and forget afore the dagger point even grazed our feeble hearts, our half-baked haste.
The other half of us to live and die by dogged decree, serving the final course of our repast, cold riposte at every turn.
But jury purer, justice pending. By my word, what became of integrity delivered by the scales.
This day we heed the colourful, the contemplative.
Hollow criminal. Hello shotgun conscience.
Pause it on the black and white, and cue the grey to wash the crimson bright.
Let love linger, let faith gape, met with sickly sweet humane abundance, bathing in the dusty light.
Overkill in the first degree.
Pleading with the hellbound, the soon to be departed.
But what of the judge-penitent, whose just heart serves us well. Like hell it does.
By my soul, crux of my being, we cannot abide by this dearth of morality. This stately sodomy.

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Poetic

Devil knows I am

Deathly afraid to stop knowing you
Fierce prize of a cub-like man. Once, no twice,
Let’s try thrice devoured for a bland, scarce dinner
For a barely chew and spit morsel.

Disaster after disaster will pass her
What pathetic life form
No refined pallet
But swills at every chance.

Let’s hold up now
Do I cease to beat myself black and blue?
And shiny but I do not shine
Playing better than my worst is harder than it sounds
You do not know a thing
I brushed off your sins
Before they even left your pretty little mouth
To say nothing of the ones
That barely impressed upon your chest
That stand neither a coaxing, nor trial
I am no judge-penitent
Assume no such title
I swam, no drowned in deep blue love
And hell only knows this preemptive defense
The heart so eager to quickly mend.

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