There are ombudsmen such
As God, who look at all the works

Carried against you and gives
You a lone hand to be the power of one,

In a world that schemes against the good
In traffic that is congested and deeper than face value

And Judas, is not just that cheek,
The cold kiss, the betrayal

It is also, a reminder that nothing is durable
Not even the bond shared in blood

Or cot space or in that gutter, we call hell.
And we learn that in the grand scheme of things,

No man is innocent, no man is free,
Of treason, to that sovereignty,

Of an island in the middle of nowhere
Where solitude is the only way of life,

And tsunamis and even the low tides,
Are erosive forces.

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