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Tread
The weapon I have eludes patience and service
The low uneven creep disturbs my morbid mortality
This sentence of life without ally
Mistakes my gratitude without question
Travesties are just that
An intangible tread upon the heart
Waiting to disembowel
I remember when life was full of lost gods
When remembrance was only of joy
And commonplace misgivings were at least entertained
If not forgiven
Jam
©
James Cross