Dewayne Jordan


Seven Dreams


See does one not, the fears of mortal man?
Taste of forbidden fruit from waste, bet you can.
Hear the screams hiss and growl, is it near or be it far?
Scent of garden roses, yet all has gone to mar.
Away you graze the heavens, deep beneath the sod.
Touch the mangled flesh on the face of claimed god.

Submitted: Sunday, May 05, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, September 18, 2013

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