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Deceit in the eye of kindness

By Jonathan Murray-Lacey

Cowardly gloss of lies of lust, and in each festered
Wound – as weeps the soul with love, lights shine
Where all is doom. As held afar in distant lands
Where I was born and reared to run – all corrupt
All held dear except the fear of marching feet
As worker toils and breaks to chaff – as
Rolls the thunder of past deeds – as cynics
Feeds young at their breast – as doubters on
Reality wheels – as stoic sees the sun break
Through – with each echo – and with rainbow
Hues – and you and you and you and you
Are blended back.
The hero is without a doubt – As Iron Heels
Begin to rust and Masques are held to be exposed; thus
Transformed – as song to music raises youth
And all about to draught are drawn – to
Replenish and shrug off despair – the paper lies
Shine as well, in reading of...
Then can we say – ‘go, come our way –‘
An enemy unborn or changed their way –
As lessons from great struggles weep – as – as on your
Guard the tower Keep – then to the book – to the gore
To the past and shinowy sight of yesterday – to smash
To make – to relate – to lift off an evaporating weight
And in audacious reach create – and to the
Moving break. And to breathe once more...


In Ireland where the dead – are on leave – where
The young breed – we find we find unbroken story – in the
Breaking of the nations where we formed – as bookworm
Or gunsmith – as to the future drawn – and flow
From Ghetto – we spilled – and hold
To our -------- own.


As in our labour sweat to drip – as
Push we to the future give – as screech
And scream
At soldier at the door – we were a mass
And we are More –
In spilling into continents where we may
Abuse – but not forget – in moulding futures we
Return – as if we never borrowed harm.


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