Mark Richardson

(30/01/1973 / Leeds)

Seeping Wound

Faulty ways and dusty shoes, can’t school me in your world
Bite your Eden apple
Your voice does crack with venom

Odds stack then roll to your favour, again
Once more
Yes, yet again you ride the wave and sail to him

Come on, what’s your ill gotten gain
Fervour of madness, zeal of evil
Evil zeal

Filth remains, stains
Stains the greedy few
Then you, yes you

Sift through their memory box, and then voice the sonnet
For we can lift and shift our pain
Like morning dew
Like the many few, the very few

Lessons learned through rolling years
All signs viewed, yet never read
It’s been said
Told as cold as you

Surprise can clatter, stumble them
The open wound seeps a porous cask
A cask of iniquity,
The shine of sin blinds, finds you
The hidden lays, found

Submitted: Sunday, August 02, 2009

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