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Destiny a winding road,
fate the culmination;
to exist beyond such conceptions,
a truer freedom none have touched.
Yes, the tower

c
r
u
s
h
i
n
g

even as it uplifts;
a prison of Miss-

"You can't do that!"

-takes absent bliss.

That I am this 'thing' of wrought soul, ferrous whole,
rendered thus by others?

It burns my blood,
that sinful dove
all dressed up in proverbs.

I want freedom's kiss,
and Mankind's bliss,
and love rendered language.

More than modes of oppression loathed,
I am human:
rancid.
I hope your God exists.
Yes, that heavenly bliss
and his choir full of angels.

He'll see you all,
and he'll grieve your fall:
the justice you've avoided.

Because your Eden is dying,
and your neighbors are sick.
Yet, you have chosen hatred.

Hoarding wealth and warmth,
saying naught of the poor,
and waving off enslavement.
America the Brave.
One-way ticket to DC.
Cigarettes. Coffee. Tylenol.
I do not intend to ruin my life doing something astronomically dumb. The thought occurs, though. Like when society is faced with cruel upheavals. Or when genocide is given a veneer of worthiness. Or when the most oppressed peoples - all of them too vulnerable by half - are fashioned into scapegoats.
Cousin of a land untouched
by seed, by root, by child, by brush.
Timber aged, filigreed by wire;
I wonder, death: does it inspire?
You: a monolith, sentinel no more;
metal your limb, lightning their pour.
The touch of sap is gone from you,
refashioned for cold and copper dew.

Mycelium grief, fire-baked sorrow;
I bid adieu, tomorrow-
-tomorrow.
I do not make it easy,
I do not make it kind.
I do not travel breezy,
nor sing of earth and rhyme.

My words are thunderborn,
hatred, war, and pain;
politics for one and all,
social grief and game.

Entertainment's worth,
the value I extract;
a tale for twenty thus,
a tale for us and that:

Memories yet traveled,
roads not trod by us;
the voice of yet born trillions,
the journey that is love.
Your broken breath, half a sob - regret coiled, skin fevered.

Swallow
               it
                  down,
or don't

think on it:
Shame.

A most beautiful gift-
-to rise above.
-to rally against.
-to learn from.
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