Crawling from depths forgotten,
long awaited exhumation.
Resurrected from martyrdom,
words, like entrails, drag in my wake.

Eviscerated, in chaos,
stumbling through my mind, dissolute.
Eyes shut, unable to face them,
I read them in Braille on my soul.

They echo cruel dichotomies,
Innocence and dereliction,
I try to gain better vantage,
but the words indelibly stain.

M. Zane McClellan

Copyright 2015
All rights reserved

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