Inquisition
In a light discouraged
By black curtains and growing dark,
Can a seed take root and spring
Forth, and over take find a place
And a certain specific glow
In red words stained with
Ideas, burnt rather than bled,
And a rising sun, held back, kept down.
By black curtains and growing dark,
Can a seed take root and spring
Forth, and over take find a place
And a certain specific glow
In red words stained with
Ideas, burnt rather than bled,
And a rising sun, held back, kept down.