Thursday, October 9, 2014


I’ve heard many lie with thin veil of kindness.
Corrosive as acid, their words try to seep into you.
You and I know better. Their words only etch themselves,
revealing their skeletons, all that’s left of them.

They turn your “Good morning” into insult against you,
thinking to injure your emotions and break thought.
But we know better, because they only appear as bones,
our eyes open, theirs never having seen light’s deep glint,

their bones lying in utter dark. - And the little ones,
the little ones they tear to shreds in murderous glee.
But there’s far worse waiting for them than a millstone,*
for time’s end will not find them in its perfect renewal.**

Then it will be as though they never were,
with infants playing on the hole of the asp,
weaned, their hand on the cockatrice’s den,*** unharmed.
Lies, death, skeletons, evil smiles, never then again.+

--RK, 12:07amEDST, 10/9/2014
     [*Luke 17:2, **Revelation 10:6, ***Isaiah 11:8]

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