The pure power of his name
the worlds shroud of shame
The illness that riddles all bone and breath , the choke of stress
Oh suffocating tresses, tresses of the tongues poison, the sting, sly sting of the fables caught under my skin.
Aggression, aggression  the furrowing grandeur of my pain. Oh hatred, the hatred out of petty presses and knotty messes. Slain
Slain in the name greater that pain.
Reason, purpose, path, passion, love
Over pouring, transforming
No longer a grudge
Power, strength, stature and rebellion. Rebellion against the pain and hatred inverse aggression, passion
Passion in objecting the twigs and tears of such a whirl.
Not a passive glance at possibility and theoretical action.
But a planting of peace in what harrows
Turn from the noose, the water, the fruit.
Reason is woven into your roots.
An everlasting water growing my bones  though tested by the dagger and the rope
hearty marrow will no longer wield my ruin.
Second hand torture.
Unknowingness in bystander
The slap of selfishness and the wishes for the best.
Despite reason convoluted and lacking in the trust of above. Complaint, complaint dear ease your paints. No coverage less coverage over protecting your taint. Pour, love pour love even in your tears. The nakedness of your heart is true honesty and cure. Lack fear, no fear, it’s a fight not a flurry. Much is ahead my dear
Know He is there because you are still here.