Basing on Blake

Quench quench wanhopes ?
oh holy light –
possessed of day
where spirits stray
cannot in itself
destroy or complete
near shades of extortion
where sorrows meet.
Timeless rallies
buck, stagger & ween –
cavort with terror
like an arsenal – for freedom?
Old weapons reload
propriate oceans of sky
the waterwheel flows –
Swoons, wuthers, outrides!
make mudhole,
sudden game ball
bounds out –
Treason whorls
& rejolts
turns a bulls-eye
stark wild.
Beauty scurrying
from the mayhem
lies delinquent, in wait –
for deceits
snapping thunderbolts
to spasmodically dissipate.
As sorrow aches
to trust –
and anguish turns
to lust.



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