Studies in Sobriety Poetics Donate.
         
     

The Wyrding of it

 

     

I am wyrding with you now
  for all things which
was never said must be writ
  for at the bottom
of the lakes doeth it lie
  to poison the fish.

It is not pleasantries for
  like nuclear waste
it was made into instead of
  a crystal clear lake -;-
If it is not known for wyrds
  then we walked past.

The trees have dyed of it
  the roots in water
into them it was wyrded
  like a poison chalice
they are dying to speak
  of it to us, dying -

Diving into the wyrdings
  the rivers does not
carry the poisons away;
  at the bottom it is
where mussels should be
  with pearls inside.

For by mistake are made;
  it is said to never
throw them before swine;
  but there are none
for poisonous they became
  but they talk not of it.
'
It is like casting demons
  into swine; but who
was it then who made it so
  when daymons were -
for it is so',so poisonous
  for the lost pearls.

It is all of society which
  there ignores it
it festers; it irradiates them
  to then lay blame
on somebody else will do
  but they not either.
'
Blood can not wash it out
  for it is not change
but to prey on it instead
  of praying into it
into abuse it was turned
  like lead in paint.

I am out of air to breathe;
  and return to surface
to only see the clear-blue sky
  into the lakes reflects:
The age of the water bearer
  the lake must be as it.

I understand what I must do
  but I am so afraid
that they do not; they do not
  for it is all for them
to lay it on others but find
  the cross's removed.

       
 
         
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