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Dec 2019

It was somewhere  between
her third and forth ******
when the wall, came down;
a wall  she didn't even know existed--

                   A wall, that is,
    until love came to town.

And so it is,  within the pleasurable;
   when mixed with pain,  
   in certain moments;   
becomes,  quite obtainably
the death, of death..

within the loving-kindness
         of things known, anally--

        (the tenderness of a back-door man
        is a righteousness, all it's own),
        as  it is the intentions of the heart
        that brings one  closest,
        to that   of kingdom, come.

And yet.. an angelic, front-pew voice
   singing praise
   when heart-- unchecked,

can become a clanging sound, unholy;
drowned out, by the passion-screams
of the one,  once-bound--

        but now,  breaking free.
        (a truly righteous sound in Heaven,  indeed..)

        --and Love,  Love,  Love;
        is rarely what we think it otta be.
        (or maybe, there is a heretical-hell
        waiting- for those  just like me.)

But if what passes itself off as life,
is actually Life, indeed    
                 then I choose hell, (yes. again, indeed).
And if heaven, for most.. is nothing, but a crutch
I'll choose death, over death, every ****** time..

                                           thank-you-very-much.


rantings, of the insane.
or **** it.

          or whatever..

--you're welcome.
https://youtu.be/sf3KG8VAtJg
~J Morrison, inebriated
Written by
M Vogel
156
     Muzaffer, A W Bullen and ---
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