When only …

When lies have hidden your life

Under bushel

In almost biblical sense,

In the primeval sense of dark and dusty end,

And trees were burnt and toasted 

Like drink illegally foisted 

And drunk 

Right wrong,

And tongued in mouths of thirst;

And every hurt 

Was meant to drill 

Until the past meant nothing more than 

Empty remember and

Hollow forget;

And then when only these lies are beaten back,

And the sacks of promises never fulfilled 

Are rewritten beyond the fortunes that painfully 

Weal like vulture on carrion 

(Anything but healed)

Will freedom finally be yours

To keep,

As sleep in loving willow

Be yours to weep.


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