drank what you offered but it
tasted like blood and so i asked for more
the joke is obvious
but never clear
the house is made of
dust and hatred
found the room we used to share
found the candles and the rope and
once you grow tired of discussing memory
you can start talking about the truth
once the distance between
faith and hope is halved
the hostages are executed one by one
not every valiant cause needs to
become a reason for war
1 comment:
Hey John,
Good to see you are still around and writing. I had just writing a post about you on my blog when I decided to see if you were still around having just returned to the writing game after a four year absence.
keep the faith.
--Chris
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