Flow

I will pull you from the wounded waters
their sharp and cunning teeth no more
to tempt with aqueous ends
If damp, bedraggled, you must rise
from oceans grave — defiant stare
ascend with humble pride and
the dignity of the damned
We who write our souls to printed page
disclose more naked
than new-born lambs or languid love
are never free of fret or fuss
and if in condemnation find
that lonely gallows or shallow sea
then succour be in brittle words
yet words may bring redemption
You will not submerge in briny depth
these broken hands will bring you forth
they will not let you drown or die
in others deluge overcome

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