Wednesday, August 22, 2012

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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