- Published: March 11, 2025
in Short Poems
Shaped and baked near whipping post, Father, Son and Holy Ghost
Lords creation at first glance, now becomes a heinous stance
Without method style or grace, prearrangement takes its place
Love, hate, joy and pain now conspire an epic feign
Shaped and baked near whipping post, Father, Son and Holy Ghost
Lords creation at first glance, now becomes a heinous stance
Without method style or grace, prearrangement takes its place
Love, hate, joy and pain now conspire an epic feign
Guilt and loathing to atone, gild the walls and precious stone
Paltry pence in fusion grow, to the pompous they bestow
Hollow empty vacuous gesture, cloaked in stark and splendid vesture
My conceit has placed me well, fear of nothingness or hell.
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