Quench quench wanhopes ?
oh holy night –
dispossessed of day,
where elementals stray
cannot in itself
destroy or complete
near shades of extortion
where sorrows meet.
Timeless rallies
buck & careen
cavort with terror
like an arsenal for freedom?
Old weapons reload
propriate the sky
a cog wheel floods
swoons, burbles - outrides!
Bloody-minded
makes mudhole
to bathe in its tub –
forswear and defy.
Lost children still lie
majestically in wait -
for pervasions
tipping thunderbolts
to spasmodically
dissipate.
As sorrow aches
to trust
and anguish turns
to lust.
Basing on Blake
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