Submissions by SnazzyRocket

First woven son
from I Am's Word
   walked in full love
but tripped on his tongue
  only holy righteous man falls
Now we will require blood...
  Serpent strikes at heel
Women bear in pain
 Till by beading sweaty brow
Wandering man falls...
walking in guilt and buried in shame
    Hope seems far
but i see
A struck match...that starts The Fire

In the name of
a poet born among thieves
what people can't fathom they can't stand
   yet grasp at romances which is nothing but thin air
they grasp at the root
of a stem so delicate...the mere thought of a whisper could destroy it's contents