A Palinode In Between

“When greetings go before the elders,”
-For the love of abandoned traditions soft on our shoulders-
Fly with the midland mornings,
To collect and bring my greetings back.
Sodom can’t pay for Gomorrah’s mournings,
So with what to feed their souls , they lack.

Hop on the back of the whirling breeze,
Slap the face of the earth with her hoofs,
Tell the crown from now my compliments will cease,
Cause them thunderstorms as living proofs.

The land of my mother is one to abhor,
The trees even bow their heads in shame.
Some truths you’d hear and want to ignore,
But the lies bellow, screaming out your name.


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