Dark Love

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It’s not always love and light
And this just may be true
For how dark is the darkest mother’s womb?
When porously incubated from within
Echoing sighs and dinner time chimes
Seeping through appeared severance
A long winded tube
It’s not always light they say
The tunnel can be vast and void
A crossbow planted at the sole
As it’s strung stretches far out and wide
To graze and swiftly kiss
Each pair of polar opposites
It’s true there are various shades and hues
Like the wild burning forest fires
Or the caged blue bird that sings
In domesticated mourning
Seven hundred or more so feet
Beneath the bellowing ocean sheets
Beyond plastic coral reefs and
Filmy sunscreen wreaths
It’s dark like a child in womb, body in tomb
Under toes of sunken burn ash
Is it not from there we rise again
Striking a chord evermore attuned
Towards and within transcendence
All ways through and through
Inter-dependent on you enlightening
Foam shreds the darkest wounds
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