Alternating frequencies of false equivalencies – is the calamity that fuels our absence of morality.

We wander through the trails of our life seething.

Seemingly oblivious – that anger without discernment is a purgatory that few are granted a parole from.

A path without a map.

A ship without a sail.

Our past is the currency – but history is not sexy and accordingly it is cast aside.

The past is our treasure.

Within its depths are the reparations – for our callous disregard of the lessons that cried out for acknowledgment.

Instructions that were muffled by the serial crimes of our haughtiness.

Lest we die without redemption.

Copyright © 2017 ShunPwrites. All Rights Reserved

Writer, poet, possessor of 2 cents, blogger, recovering corporate animal and eternal student of life, who harbors a firm belief in his Grandmother's mantra that: "People need to get off of their rump and do something". All while keeping in mind that a cheering section will only get in the way.

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