Thou hath taken to the streets, in madness and demand for spite...thinking thyself greater than heaven, that divine's but your invention. Now, thou hath, as hath demanded. What?! For, ye are nothing, but his grace of thought...yet, ye hath made him cry, behind ye barricade's of will...his tears pour forth, of that, far greater still, than ever be imagined...
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2017, at Deming, New Mexico
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