Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Undead & their Hymns'

I found God, the hands touched & he had a soul
Half-wit, half scorned his glow..
(Shrugged the dirt off ..& lighted a smoke)
He could try set ablaze d wind I adored,
Dirty a player, his tricks always have to score.
So, haunts his hounds..sees for him,
And the defiance is dealt with in smacks of whim!

This chap had to me, but just spoke.
He was a thief battered by a crowds stick,
a life saved in skids of a car's screech,
a shrapnel that chose to be a wound,
a drowned & his breath new found,
a crutch or the grace of a life’s new sheen.

He says not word one, dabs of moist not his blinks,
So sympathies are not his hood..baulked at now my prayers.
His disciples the kind I to bow,
But to you, I am a world unbent-an earthbound!

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