Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Darragh's Trust

Rests impaled on the pikes of the heart thieves.
Walks from beside myself to greet my soul.
Lays at your feet trusting gentle foot fall.
A cheap oriental rug bare to dirty feet.
Scorned raven feathers plucked for nests of doves.
A wounded heart with a dagger stuck in it's back.
Preaching hypocritical words of wisdom.
Melding mind and heart as one. Envisioned.

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