Some were angels, some belonged in the place of furnaces.

We Were Only Following Holy Orders.

Devout, devoted, devouring
The holy brothers' and sisters'
Scowling, cowling. Us cowering,
And counting the blisters;
The measure of the error
Of the pain of the cane:
The terror

09:18, Fri. 03/11/2006.
(From an idea last night.)

Poetry by Mark J. Wood
Read 909 times
Written on 2006-11-03 at 13:05

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Yes. The religion of love.