I feel formed to pour scorn on a world torn by porn.  Oh how I mourn the chords of coarse courses that coerce hoards toward money’s empty reward. I’m worn from wearing worn voices warning of thorns born in our choices.   Racism runs rampant with ranting it just happened that whites were handed the Hamptons.  We fragment the planet’s passion when we dampen the gambit of damage women have to manage.

And the poor are banded to the bandit poverty while the rich are rapid to remain absent.  I get cynical from cyclical grieving of these grievances, yet left speechless from my grievous fiendish fidelity to these demons. I grieve for my family now cause we developed distance as a hand me down.  And the sound of broken homes is found in the bones of mansions and ghettos.

Despite desperate disparate divisions of reality and possibility, I delight in the daylight of our precarious position.  The worth of this earth was birthed and nursed by the eternal First.  Now it feels cursed worse than a hearse.  Yet dispersed these hurts is beauty which eclipse their cruelty.

Cuddles of my wife muzzle the trouble of my struggles.  And a couple close friends muffle the subtle offense of disinterest by people’s hustle.  Strange kindness of a stranger strangles the estranged staged pain that leaves us mindless. But God still finds us and sent the mental sentimentals to set the medals of the righteous over gold metals that meddle with his guardians that guard his gardens meadow.  We’ve parted from his party and pardoned this heartless party that’s part and parcel of our carnage.

Yet he’s imparted impartial artists that started a bargain to barge us from the carcass of our carnal garbage.  As we harvest garbage as a garnish on earth’s garment, this rock’s landscape still magnifies his majesty even when land can’t escape our malign malady.  The agony of calamity can’t cancel the capacity of ample chances channelled to humanity through his ransom.