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Fill The Void...
we attempt
to fill the void left
when the self
leaves the soul,
with stone images
of a god we've created
out of iced over fears...
created in the image
of our own darkness.
a god that rains down
fire and brimstone
by our hidden whims.
a god that looks like us,
that acts like us,
and despises all else.
a prophylactic thrust
of eternity,
eternity sold on street corners...
and all the while
the stranger waits quietly
just outside the door.
his breath familiar,
his face everyman's,
his actions,
simple compassion.
his name, forgiveness!
poem
by
Eric Cockrell
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