Thursday, September 13, 2018
Ananias
The custom of truth valued by all,
Lies are lies, great or small,
Where tongue spew in contort,
An angel vengefully hears distantly amort;
Words are weapons and liars use them well,
Spirits are broken, undo harmful corporeal,
The cuckold lies of deceit,
Where lies collapse in faithless defeat,
The certitude of justification
Holds no conscience of explanation;
The custom of truth valued by all,
Lies are lies, great or small.
- John Hardesty
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
The Frost Won't Hide The Scar
Bitter resentment hails within a memory, Of you,
-
Measurement of Pain This true tale begins long ago, When France's Louis XV reigned as King; A tyrant, grief he bestowed, Upon the pe...
-
The dimming light of fallen grace that squints past the years like mercurial atoms darting away from the chaos it defends, mortal foliage ...
-
There’s no rousing of memory and the only flustrum of reason scurries away into the vastness of entanglement, suspended in misery as the p...
No comments:
Post a Comment