This is the new blog...CONFESSION ZERO


Men without eyes will go out alone
Shatter the portrait downward
And to the jackals

Offer pennies of our jaded wish.
Does anyone understand this?
Have we thought of our lovelessness?

Behind our last breaths of our
unfortunate disgust
The fear-fouled goodness
The bleeding run through
The repellent nationalist
The deviating line in the sand
The scraggly-toothed oppressors
The slipshod parishioners
The depleted silvery-white
The dabbing stroke of agony
The bleakness of
The onslaught of despotic ideals
The limbless industrialized slavery
The brutal sacraments of hypocrisy
The barbed fruits of empirical reckoning
The headless optimism of whole ruination

Does anyone know what I am saying?
Have we thought of our collusion?

O! Let us anoint our occasion of peace!
Revolt of this; the master’s haunt!
War should be our slave!
Not our medication!
Not a haggard monster
To move about
Or flaunt!

Starvation can better be murdered
Than the humanity of our soul.
Hate can better be slaughtered
Than the hands of our hopes.
Oppression can better be hollowed
Than the eyes of our love.
Abuse can better be removed
Than the heart of a child.

O! Let us anoint our occasion of peace!
Let us look to
heal rather than conquer!
To gentleness instead of extended battering!
To the bird of lasting peace
Rather than the beast of war!

Faint are the solemn cries of this; our ending.
Faint are the urges of this; our sustenance.
Faint is the hope of this; our dissent.
Faint is the scratching of death.
Faint is our longing for life.
Shrill are the men without eyes.


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