HUNTED IN INVIOLABLE BLOOD:
but leave in defiance its new ruins everywhere.
Listen in here carefully now, sneerlife;
Wrong in the head means wrong in the eyes.
Right in nothing owns rights to nothing.
Shut thereafter kindly your slow snout.
Advice on advice writes a starving harvest
wording a wisdom stolen from nonsense
wherein tiresome words are endowed pity
so like raisins showing the full grape vine
We know all too well that been and had is nothing to be harvested,
so keep all your filthy, wry-legged and weakmoulded words
where all regretted “love” always takes its way home to be hated
Hear the laughter at your comparing of mutual infantilities to be sane
and find you thereafter that the will to your wrongs are missing here,
furthermore that more than love is not a mystery; The Name will remain.
Rip from its hold
that cleanest emotions have here too hard been used up,
that fairest scum keep creep in line before the foulest!
Rip from its hold that suffering and death stand All near!
Take to its hold
that Honour will outshine petty survival,
that only Truth does own us in real beauty!
Poetry by 1 SIGFRIDSSON
Read 176 times
Written on 2023-10-20 at 15:59
Tags Truth Love Honour
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MORE THAN LOVE
Seldom do futile words about love take on a living,but leave in defiance its new ruins everywhere.
Listen in here carefully now, sneerlife;
Wrong in the head means wrong in the eyes.
Right in nothing owns rights to nothing.
Shut thereafter kindly your slow snout.
Advice on advice writes a starving harvest
wording a wisdom stolen from nonsense
wherein tiresome words are endowed pity
so like raisins showing the full grape vine
We know all too well that been and had is nothing to be harvested,
so keep all your filthy, wry-legged and weakmoulded words
where all regretted “love” always takes its way home to be hated
Hear the laughter at your comparing of mutual infantilities to be sane
and find you thereafter that the will to your wrongs are missing here,
furthermore that more than love is not a mystery; The Name will remain.
Rip from its hold
that cleanest emotions have here too hard been used up,
that fairest scum keep creep in line before the foulest!
Rip from its hold that suffering and death stand All near!
Take to its hold
that Honour will outshine petty survival,
that only Truth does own us in real beauty!
Poetry by 1 SIGFRIDSSON
Read 176 times
Written on 2023-10-20 at 15:59
Tags Truth Love Honour
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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