The impermance of salvation,
begins to bleed at the imperfect seems of dilusion.
I beg involuntarily as my body shakes and strokes.
I once believed in faith,
in a man sent to redeem mankind from it's own hands.
Foolish concoction once born from the hand of men,
as guns and weapons to steal and rape.
From once was a time that we were saved,
we perverted our future with uncertainy and good intentions.
Dakota Ellerton
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/good-intentions-8/
