Hollow Power
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| Image by maverick.com |
HOLLOW POWER
We chase a gleam of home through thorny night,
each step a pact with want dressed up as right.
A hollow crown declares our fears are small,
yet strings inside the sham king pull us all.
We gift our wounds to strangers made of tin,
for hearts denied will gamble hurt, to win.
We oil the rust of courage bought on loan,
though trembling hands confess we stand alone.
A false green god reflects what we believe--
we unmask our needing, we learn to grieve.
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