Thursday, October 22, 2015

prologue to a vision

who did i anger?
whose wrath comes against me
that the scales were ripped
from my blind eyes
that burning light might enter in

in older days,
girls had excuses
scorned gods and faeries
exacted cruel and exquisite vengeance
on maidens chaste and fair

but in this cold asphalt world
who can we blame?
who brings curses on us,
when our love is filtered
through the glass and blue light screens
and no gods know our names?


and yet
am i not cursed?
does it matter
whose spit cleared my eyes?




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