not my will but Yours
that strains the grief
of the simplest joy
itself a fleeting delusion
against the reality of the Ineffable
all we'd forgive
all we'd amend
all we'd love
and to whom we'd show mercy
as nothing to the heartless perfection
that calls life slavery
and love a bitter choice...
and so the psycho demands of the Unforgiving
Your Will not ours who'd say fuck it
and love and forgive and heal
and wonder what it is about our peace
that rouses the Beast in every damn issue
as we continue despite all tyrannies against this love...
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