Pain Of Birth, Or Something Like That... Poem by Jeffrey A. Swim

There is a wave passing over me.
Bands of reality contorting my form.

The heat of hate.
The frigid fear.
The warmth of hope.

Twisting turning ragged in the winds of life.

No time for tears to fall, but they well full
and blind my secular sight.

More painful is birth than death,
or something like that...

The gods of good.
The satans of sin.

I am born it begins,
twists of the wind.

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December 27,2005