Wait till the end

​In the abyss between grace and starvation

Black with complacency
Midnight Blue
Indecision, indecisions
All becomes poison in the hands of the unskilled
The naive
Trust ever elusive
Steady silence
Solid Emptiness
The glare of whiteness
of ivory
Heaven’s beckoning light
No, it is no longer as pure
No longer virgin born
Colored with deception
Baptized without repentance
Spring fourth from murky waters
Be ye clean
In thine hands
On thine helms
Of uncertainty
Always questioning
What’s for dinner?


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