If you tell yourself
often enough you may be healed,
then maybe you will be
like that blind man
on the side of the road
When Christ passed by
The Son of God takes pity on him,
restores his sight,
a miracle made out of mercy,
the blind man may not deserve,
maybe even regretting later
when bearing witness
to the horrors of the world
Each cure coming
With a curse of
awareness
The awakening to the fact
We have put faith in shadows
Thinking they were real
The scalding sunlight unbearable
Outside the cave,
Making his plead to return
Only we can never go back,
Never unsee,
And must roam the earth
Bearing the burden of shame
Over having failed to have recognized
Somethings that are
Pure evil.
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