DNA strings weigh me down:
An Anchor in the blue
abyss of nothingness,
except conniving grudges
that stack up (like sand sediments
crinkled over the ages).
Never again can I
wobble to the consent
of my indecisive curiosity.
There is no such thing as
a liberty to concede to;
only stillness (as instilled by Nature
and sojourn faith), that
dictates everything.
Oh Tyranny; I balk at the thought.
Yet my heart is charcoaled, and crispy.
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