It left my lips
Into the wings of the wild winds
Like untamed stallion holding it back was impossible
The word had it's progeny
A vague replica of the sire
No one could tell what it meant anymore
Or exactly what was said
For it was said off record
And heard in the false echo by the right ears
From the wrong source and medium
That which was well meant smelled like a maleciois rumor
Truth and cover-up looked like sons of the same womb
Flames of distrust and suspicion eating away the flesh of noble intention
Love of brothers soured into notable contention
Acred stench of regret suffocating my solitary mind
How I wished the golden septor of silence had governed my lips
The words and intention would have descended like the son of man
Coming with the clouds of heaven at the right hand of God the Father
But all that was left for my use was a valuable lesson to be kept in the chest of wisdom
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