Season of Explosions

Oh how these days came to swell

In the season of explosions

Turning over to where I fell

From the ceiling of my transgressions;


I could the feel the build

Rushing up behind me in tow

Like the end of days was spilled

And I could only stand and know;


Waiting for the moment to dissolve

Into the mold of something new

Like the byproduct of ancient resolve

Where the story replays in the pew;


What it could take?

I do not know

What’s at stake?

How much I can show.

Published by Bryn Montgomery


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