Wrestling with the grave
predisposition,
Clinging to a trusting nature,
Wanting desperately to find
A simple something to believe.
Hoping that the fangs have been retracted,
Waiting silently in shadows til
The shackles turn to butter,
Yearning for a fast reprieve.
Walk into the den of fire and lions,
Leave your weapons at the doorstep,
Slide the deadbolt from the outside,
Blindfold covering your eyes.
Judgment takes a permanent vacation,
Blinded by the situation.
Pavlov’s pet in its creation
As you listen to the lies.
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Amazon Author's Page: http://www.amazon.com/Dennis-S-Martin/e/B004SXY4LG/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1394055582&sr=1-2-ent
Clinging to a trusting nature,
Wanting desperately to find
A simple something to believe.
Hoping that the fangs have been retracted,
Waiting silently in shadows til
The shackles turn to butter,
Yearning for a fast reprieve.
Walk into the den of fire and lions,
Leave your weapons at the doorstep,
Slide the deadbolt from the outside,
Blindfold covering your eyes.
Judgment takes a permanent vacation,
Blinded by the situation.
Pavlov’s pet in its creation
As you listen to the lies.
Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Plays: http://sites.google.com/site/playsbydennissmartin/
Amazon Author's Page: http://www.amazon.com/Dennis-S-Martin/e/B004SXY4LG/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1394055582&sr=1-2-ent
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