Jan 22, 2013

Battle Within


Battles of the flesh and blood did offend,
Her violated temple was coated in sin,

And, she attended a spirited church which praised trouble,
It falls hard like a fumble, they would chuckle,

Those moth mouths spoke of the salt required,
To be a mindful mountain; to have a pining attire,

A given solution for her poisonous waste,
Yet, one cannot mix guilty fire and virtuous taste ,

Now years console a mundane blame,
Her finger is bent; her body numb to the pain,

As she puts her feelings of concern along a court-side ring,
Her divorce complete like autumn, winter and spring,

And the clouded judges look beyond her, eyeing with contempt,
Unknowing of her radiant skin and what she did exempt


jhp©2011-2012



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