The Worm and the Sword
I will be controlled no longer by those
who don’t practice what they preach.
Those who turn their noses toward
the heavens searching among clouds
as I bend, before god, a worm contaminated.
I ask forgiveness.
Let go of past lives.
Hate to believe dreams have no chance in this world.
But this is only partly true, far worse off are those who
have lost the ability to dream. So cruel. No hope for
today. All stock in what happens after the thud.
Soldier put down the sword, don’t use the word
as weapon, but a tool to tame the demons raging
in your own eye. You still say I must believe as you?
That there is no other way? No difference between
what you teach and how things are?
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Tags: Poetry, religious, sword, worm