THE BASTARD CHILD

THE WORLD was meant devouring mouths
dead burnt fields of March
Or if it were, as bearing beauty’s name;
now awaken is leviathan of deep ocean
many dead sailor’s hearts torn wide open
Being born in His Image we are WAR
and frightful power/Jesus was an only
Son with a distant Mother: her eyes
as jewels from some rat in a cage
and her Husband not of Earth
: beauty lacking a tower
Oh Son full of desire to understand
even those tears fall burning dirt
Each yearning suited for slandering
creation with a false esteem
so the world forgot.

:: 02.20.2022 ::

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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