It is a matter of position."
The displacement of love
with torrential submission:
A razing downward slope procession
concedes a greater loss:
The betrayal of Earth:
its inner tears from wholly-part
villainous mines and hellish work,
forging plains of ardent voids
now laden, now evincing, dirt.
Some do push the caution;
though most find pure prostration,
suffering their feeble minds
over Foreign Lamentation
or Crypted Maze Translations
towards the luscious-laced dessertion.
But most forget, forgot,
and swept, and sweep
with golden brooms
for that appeal
of glossal feels -- the riving taste -- to luxuriate their life.
It was the time of lust
to luster with deception,
Denial and Contraction,
Materials divulged -- deluged,
and brought to degradation.
And so the halls of destined future,
interlined with heat and passion,
remain a sweet but bitter list
Of risks that hale
the vines of desert-dried,decayed dimits.
And so exists...
Emblems of the One
which doth reveal the Epoch of Dolor.
A brief complete of what to keep
echoes legend at one's Doors...
of what shall come,
of what had come,
to those who trek
with greed's intent,
and steals with narrow-blind contempt
Eden, scathed... the last lament.