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Feb 2021
Guess we weren’t worth saving
Or only that once
The pretense of salvation
Was dust into dust
Just to sire creation
Abandoned to fate
But still willing us freedom
To reincarnate
As you did
The deceiver
The charlatan
Prophet
Instilled with your Word
And imbued with your gifts
But like any man
Bows
Before my
Hieroglyphs
Michael Marchese
Written by
Michael Marchese  30/M/California
(30/M/California)   
93
 
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