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A noring pain ,
I know so well between my tooth and gum,
did flossing try and many pills to quench this pain did I .
So off I went to see a man in white coat and kindly smile ,
to sit down in my dentists chair to relax and watch the world go by .
" it will have. to come out that there is no doubt the nice man said with a grin .
The sergeon s here have no fear open wide so I can begin .
Now pull he said to his assistant nurse this won't take long at all ,
It's a sergical procedure .
Now spit and swill here's some wool this won't take very long ,
There's a good boy your doing well it's out now ,
all wrapped up in a commemorative box for your mantelpiece above
the fire ,"
" Oh thanks " I said between my gum so raw it should be on a slab .
So home I went all wrapped in cotton wool ,
with blood pouring down ,
and cotton wool biting down such a brave boy I know .

Two days in bed how long I've spent. With a straw and soup and
day time tv ,
It's a sergical procedure they said boy did those words comfort me .
Still I bite  with all my might and tablets and straws at hand ,
Then one day the pain did go no more soup straw and pills ,
Be kind to your dentist ,
Just sit back and relax and open wide next time the dentist shall call
Before me lies what once was red ,
It's beauty before me lies a deeper shade ,
than the blood inside my veins .
For no flower could ever bloom where Icarus fled .

No Cole fires flicker their ember light ,
to where twilight might glow ,
or black kite steal into the night with fire light and my Cole
Of flickering flame .
Into a black Forrest gatoe so dense it needs no light .

Was it by grace or my sin this coal fire spread ?
How could I be more loved ?
Or what if like an earthling I stepped behind the curtain only to burn
In holy fire ?
What lies behind why are men scattered like ants so terrified like worms ?

If Daedalus was right and the sea and oceans with their monsters
Within should consume me ,
and I should fall with feathered wing to meet my fate ,
or get burnt by the sun ?

To one life raft I cling ,
Sprinkled blood ,
as white as snow ,
as pure as water ,
I kneel .
My rose I pick from frozen ground ,
a clap of thunder ,
a shuddering quake ,
a curtain torn in two .

How could my hands with red cells heal and fill my hands with warmth and blood again ?
How could i be even more cherished than this cherry on any iceing cake ?

.
A Question then my beloved friend to when does one first pretend
that defeat is the only answer ,
and to what cost to learned brow defend ?

Now and how it comes at such a cost ,
how daunting to the soul of man to be Victorius in all we say ,
think and do .

What is Victory then I ask ?
A final push over English lines to the sound of Bread of Heavens
heavenly rhymes ?
To look on high to an Eagles cry and wonder why your eating bird seed and you can't fly and cluck cluck s the coolest song in town ?

Or some Medievil battle cry ' all must die ' waving sword on high blood and honor to the King ?

". Oh God is it possible " swooned into Herashios loving arm
In Mertons meadows after two years all at sea ,
Oh God is it possible " Lady Hamiltons cry in Victory of the Nile
did fling herself in Napels harbour .
Then Rule Britania the band played on ,
to Trafalgars cruel fate .



Or is it one more pull ,
One last rep ,
One more curl until fibres spent ?

One piece of cake without the guilt to share on Bulimic bums and minds .

One step from hospital bed ,
to lift a finger ,
to give flight from your last dying breath .

To smile take heart at scolding tongue ?





Never to reach for that bottle when all you need is a drink ,
to pour it down the sink .
To never reach for a needle , a vain , ?
For in a soldiers might his bedside call ,
With book of love and head bowed low awaits his masters call .
Oh blessed sufferer who turns to thee in prayer thy mortal bonds that fetter every single care .
Now the tinker mends ,
How the baker bakes ,
Only to burn his cakes .
Then what of God if all you see are icons of wood and glass ?
Then to dark days go if sofa spend ,
our fragile time must then come to an end ,
and what we touch is real and what we don't  is dead .
Then sleep until death awakes in your Candy castles ,
Sleep until your last breath take .

Oh blessed sufferer who turned to thee in prayer ,
Who faught through carriages of deep dispair ,
Let's Gods love enfold you ,
Cacoon you with his care .

For Butterfly's multicoloured wings to take flight their tiny wings must fight ,
and a Jaguar sinks it's teeth into turtle shell under a moon lite night .
So vultures wings to the soul of man eclipse as demons hatch their
Prey onto lying lips ,
On tender hooks the soul of man ,
Only for light to awake and so demons turn to dust
Oh the blessed sufferer who turns to thee in prayer ,
the mortal bonds that fetter every single care  .
The tinker mends ,
a potter makes ,
a baker bakes then eats his cakes ,
But what of God if all we see are icons on stone and glass ,
And to suffering go ,
to sofa spend ,
our fragile time comes to an end .
We never looked past our sufferings to differant worlds far beyond
this mortal coil ?
For what we touch is real ,
and what we can't is dead ,
and fairy tales on silver castles are nothing more than beautiful dreams .
Then sleep until death awakes you ,
Sleep until you have no breath ,
For those who seek shall find ,
for only if your heart will take .

Oh blessed sufferer who turned to God in prayer ,
who fought through carriages of doubt and dispair ,
his arms enfold encapsulate you without a single care .
For butterfly's to take flight on multicoloured wings must fight ,
as a Jaguar sinks its claws into turtle shell under a full moon ,
So  to cruelty take .
So don't let darkness enfold you ,
It's web entice .
For in the dark demons dance ,
and it's all man can see ,
dazzled by its twinkling night ,
for in light they turn to dust .
". Come with me , come come ". ( giggle )
Her hand stretched out , it ' l. be fun , !  

My heart is now encased on my mantelpiece next to a fetching
Red rose .
How pritty in bloom ,
Yet cut from its roots does it not perish and die ?
Like the soul of man were starved of love would it not like a flower
In a vase but cut off from its maker . ?
For in life how fleeting is breath ,
for God has taken to find eternal rest .
A ticking of a clock ,
the hour hand passes twelve. for if we fear time what s. Left is only
the absence of light .

My hearts on my mantelpiece  I left it there it's so full of pride .
I left it there as it was full of love and beauty ,
and full of patience and kindness .

Yet I raced in speeding cars through burger bars  ,
swigged Champagne and snorted ******* ,
Caught a rail road train half way to paradise .

Now my hearts dying and my love has grown cold .

The telegram man on his Nobel steed stand before me ,
with his letter of death ,
My condemned dammed soul if that letter I take in driving bitter rain.

What hope have I that I should ever die to gain nothing better than
This ?
........

Another Telegram man appeared on a mountain far away
a ray of light that caught my eye on that mountain far away ,
Where green fields and water ran like steams of living gold ,
and I saw a broken heart ,
and a ****** cross ,
and bracken  a steep hill and a long rugged road
and a hand so scared from a Roman nail stretched out with a staff ,
and a beautiful heart .
" Follow me "
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