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A New Age

The temperament of the room is too cold, too livid for comfort.
No room for regret just quite yet.


Oblivious, the effect scoured the room
Leaving nothing but chicken scratches of residue
around the navel of injustice
The inception of carnage a clawed road map
where no one visits nor heals.
A bitter, sour, sorrow.


Like fire in temples, thrusting towns out of their cold keeps and lodges,
low bodies and children fret, and furrow at the weight of irony, and indecency.
Taste it now, the edge…

Written by jadielue and I
Written by GlennMcCrary
Published | Edited 12th Jan 2013
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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