The Beaten Sock Richard Anthony Garcia II Silverware rained down from Heaven during the feast of Angels and a child picked up the babies breathe from the ground whispering his Fathers name. The sound of a banging tambourine dignified the air and the trailing of pink ribbons were French because Eluard made sure they were made from silk. Those that held grudges or were revengeful remained outside the Holy grounds and if you were invited you were given a basket filled with flowers. Some would say no Son of mine would attend this gaiety even though the deprivation came from the subversion of living in anx. Can a man have dignity in the bravo of children forcing his hand to be empowered for what King would be King without subjects? The young will dream of balloons and flying things while the ambiguity of diseases would play their part in the suffocation of Caesar who knew the vices of men and would seldom condemn the child. Above the green ground of the courtyard ogres would pray on the innocence for the Capital crimes of Rome were irrelevant. Thugs that beat others in the name of royal subjectivity, were free to abuse chastising their powers on the innocent. If, for one beaten sock there is a barefoot Soul the feast of Heaven will provide the sustenance for the condemned. If not for Allah, their would be no Jesus.
Posted on: Sun, 14 Sep 2014 23:02:02 +0000
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