This Space.
This Space, this
phenomenal grid,
Ageless aeon,
impartial container
Sets
sail and time its
anchorage.
Love and lure
in abundance,
Yet, man
pecks at the hard,
Savourless Fruit of
hatred
To his vantage
and destruction.
Read the prima
face of
the
Heart
within its chambers,
Can you? Luptub, subtle
and steady,
the
rhymed beat goes on, but,
the
beating of emotions
lurking
beneath don’t
come to the
surface until culled
and wrought out.
You and I loll
into this unique space,
Seeing
how many different faces
Out vying
the spatial nudge.
The scars, skirmishes, scabs -all these
Are there. But
the deep wound
cuts
Stay and distil
a vehement mark
On you until we merge
with the soil.
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