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A bleeding heart -By David Bartholomew

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bleedingheart

I have become a public ridicule
With distain they stare as I totter
Even the young now wrinkle because of me
To a public commentator
I am nothing but winnowed chaff
A totem anchored in marinade
A topaz bringing out putrid
A daisy that is expose to the cannon ball
The latch hold back

As its sinews swim in wanton
The dais I once stood shoulder high
To the applaud of the community
Now echo apocalypse
No more the lad’s hero
A lone path I now take
Accompanied only with me an elegy
My friends now wish me am elegy
A ferocious beast, now the children’s puppy

The Gods have been pleased to strike me and bring low
With inert I cry aloud
And the early wrinkle on my face makes a perfect trail for my tears
At twin-light I come out in camouflage
Those that mock me are no saints
Blood atonement, the creator frowns
Or I would rather exist this eerie world
For day and night I await the catacomb bell
When will this prison set free my soul?

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And this darkness let go my hand
So I can join my ancestors
Who now stands on the firmament dunes?
For no more looks to attract maidens
No longer a saint for church benediction

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I have become a public ridicule

Advertisement

With distain they stare as I totter

Even the young now wrinkle because of me                

To a public commentator

Advertisement

I am nothing but winnowed chaff

A totem anchored in marinade

A topaz bringing out putrid

Advertisement

A daisy that is expose to the cannon ball

The latch hold back 

 

Advertisement

As its sinews swim in wanton

The dais I once stood shoulder high

To the applaud of the community

Advertisement

Now echo apocalypse

No more the lad’s hero

A lone path I now take

Advertisement

Accompanied only with me an elegy

My friends now wish me am elegy

A ferocious beast, now the children’s puppy

Advertisement

 

The Gods have been pleased to strike me and bring low

With inert I cry aloud

Advertisement

And the early wrinkle on my face makes a perfect trail for my tears

At twin-light I come out in camouflage

Those that mock me are no saints

Advertisement

Blood atonement, the creator frowns

Or I would rather exist this eerie world

For day and night I await the catacomb bell

Advertisement

When will this prison set free my soul?

 

And this darkness let go my hand

Advertisement

So I can join my ancestors

Who now stands on the firmament dunes?

For no more looks to attract maidens

Advertisement

No longer a saint for church benediction

Advertisement

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