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Sergey Koserov Sep 2019
“I go to the depths”

I go to the depths of understanding. For the cries of wisdom have told me to declare understanding a kinsman.

I go among the depths of darkness:

I go to the depths of Love more than anything else.

I go the depths of reproof, finding the sins that lead straight to death.

I go to the depths of the poor. Becoming like them and poor as them.

Where does it end, upon His love which is inexpressible by men.

I go to the depths of God’s love through Christ Jesus our Lord.

Is the sea deep enough, is a mother's love deep enough, a stranger's love? Of course not. Only the love of the living God.

Would I find such love or be cast to the place of darkness and voiding of love, to hell.

Praise him that at last I have found the depths of faith, hope and love.
Sergey Koserov May 2019
Oh the filling of one's youth is bare and vain.
To not allow solace and the use of a brain.
The heart lays scattered on the marble floor.
Knelt down I did do.
Whatever sorrow is there in the choices made
I cannot tell you. For it is a burden all my own.
How I hate it, yet it clings to me like adhesive to my mind.
Is their any sanctity upon it? I thought not.
So weep I will, correct I must and give I do.
Regrets, regrets, who can foil your plans to devour me.
What is done is done, yet answer I will one day.
Toss and turn in the throws of serene sleep.
Do they contradict. Yes, I am regret she screams
won't you entertain me? Of course not.
No time machine is within me nor around.
You regret, be left to fantasy.
Sergey Koserov Mar 2019
Here I am, the filthy rag, maculate of youth, transgressions beyond the sight of years, pride, flattery, lies and disdain for all that is good.

The dishwasher, sparking clean, immaculate, ready to boil away the dirt and stains with the water of never ending flow. I enjoy having the filthy rag run through the dishwasher every day, for money is no cost and is not chargeable to this water that flows. Even so, going for broke compared to perilous fight.
Rejuvenating, enticing in the best of ways and hidden is what the orphan with a filthy rag longed for all along.
Hello dishwasher, hello friend and confidant.
Sergey Koserov Mar 2019
To whom it concerns

What is left in tentative strain?
What hope is yours to proclaim?
Life in pictures, life in moments, life in careless convivial devotion.
What will one have to say to show the stance for either romance, truth, sound mind or refrain.
Speak now or forever hold your peace they say, yet they leave out the doubt already laid into the grave.
Oh the conflicts in late darkened nights, anger so callously regarded.
Look, your child is weeping.
Come child, the joy is yours in the morning.
For laughter now will only have your parents soon be left in weeping.
Unspoken rules guide the strongest away
Forbearance is fair maiden today.
Life sought in deep accord from one who ought not to be ignored.
Sergey Koserov Mar 2019
Grateful to the birds, the bees and foxes that have holes
Grateful in steadfast love.
Grateful to not insinuate what is unjustly moralized.
Grateful to the common wealth of all the poor.
Grateful for the undivided heart.
Grateful to the one of faith, love, hope and peace within.
Grateful to anyone's disposition to please any of these.

G.S.V.K.P. 12142017
Sergey Koserov Mar 2019
Show me the tear, show me anew.
Confined to what has never bloomed to seasons of perpetual difference.
Fought against what I always knew.
If love sought so well, then why this baffling feud?
If I am sown to you in proof, then why the tear within?
Oh tear my heart and show me anew.
Friend you are, friend you were,  Dr. Jackal and Mr. Hyde could not surmise.
So, truth is gone and lies arise, tear me one anew
See that I run, hide and then collide.
Would it be for you? Dr. Jackal and Mr. Hyde could not surmise.
The mystery there, the questions daunting in the essence of darkness.
Oh I lay in bed with my heart torn waiting for something anew.
Did I not ask you to tear my heart and show me anew.
Look someone has done this for you, for only me? Hello friend!
Show me anew.

Sergey Koserov Mar 2019
Wisdom, I look for you on the hillsides, the mountaintops, the sky, and the wonders of the seas.

Yet, wisdom cries to me from a place unseen.

A place I sought in kinsman ship to wisdom and to one who gives it forward.

Oh the ones trampling the footsteps of those always seeking, there place belongs in the great dark deep.

For wisdom having always been light, will one day take its flight and so shall those of thee.

Take me now that I may forever hold my peace.
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