THE MANIPULATED DEAD

WHEN the love of her hand
held me in dying bliss
the pain of my loss!
flew all history’s winter
until I heard a bird
i dreamed i could sing
but nowhere is her voice
was the cardinal in snow
the sweetest saddest
joy of her voice
and the least less than
a wish; particle of a whole
infinite who is life?
The primary universe fraught
with great peril; war, plague,
famine and natural disasters
so common.
and Death come to use all
love is a fourth dimension
of Time in a stable constant,
but never impenetrable
as when a tangent Universe
occurs those laughing, saying
happy birthday are at the
epicenter of a dangerous new
world and teacher tell me what’s
my lesson: the Manipulated Dead
see the set of an Ensured Trap.
births a new universe.

:: 10262015 ::

About EPRobles

Writer, Artist. I like to paint abstract acrylic images onto canvas. I love to read everything, and I especially enjoy science, philosophy, and the arts. I'm new to the blog experience and I very much enjoy it! I hope to learn as much about all the features that WordPress offers and thank you -- my visitor -- for taking time to read my words. Peace and love... View all posts by EPRobles

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