there's nothing quite like

whispered blasphemies

nothing held sacred;
make our heads churn,
no one deemed holy
save our only concern

value of waning life
drowned by strife's urn
no elegance of phrase;
wordless grace return

Poetry by arquious
Read 544 times
Written on 2016-05-18 at 10:34

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Jamsbo Rockda The PoetBay support member heart!
Very good. The last line has spun me out.