Wednesday, October 17, 2018
Truth Nonpareil
In quiet solemnity
away from binding voices
and ripped complaisance,
her caustic scar drapes,
like an unhemmed costume,
her grail of disregard,
mockeries from a crooked line of jesting crows
align an honorable judgment
that selfishly severs this silver chain
where finality's ghost now lingers
on spirit's broken wind;
pitch-black mazes and scattered routes
encompass each passage,
some wear disguising smiles,
some adorn cunning grace,
but most lie,
some lie,
all lie,
though, truth when broken
is a vulgar reminder
that no one can redeem
that exalted and sacred breach
once trodden upon,
only expulsion for such
an infringement, you cannot
undo crimes from
a soulless and blacken heart.
- John Hardesty
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