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The Curse of Man


A heart empty
How can it be heavy
So heavy that I can’t sit up from bed’s sleep
So heavy ribs weep
So heavy every beat
So heavy

Oh no, here comes more
The tears, the deep howl
Grief’s guttural retching
Loss’s artery unstemmed, cut
Absence pulsing out in liters
Waves across rejection’s sterile floor

Curse history’s men
May they rot from the inside out
Violating and ravaging
Pillaging the beautiful and tender
Turning me bitter and untrusting
Making me to grow thorns, too painful to love

I want to breathe free
Choked by the scars men left
Stained with the blood of their conquests
Crippled by their song
Their sword chained to my hand
My constant struggle to disband

Why must I suffer the consequence of their sins?
Fight the ghosts of their violence?
I’m weary
I’m weary
No more swords and guns
No more wounded sons
No more

I want to love and be loved

Photo Credit: Public Domain
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