An empty expression
comes with the deepest confessions--
ones not even I thought to question
without some opposing oppression.
I watched a man stumble to his feet,
asking what it was the preacher sought to preach.
He said, "All I've ever known were simply figures of speech,
so is it true. that of which you teach?"
A woman looked around unnoticed in a vacant crowd,
as the preacher read aloud words of that which made him proud.
"I don't understand that of which he allows,
a god so holy, mighty and just, but his people poor with lust."
His words are my muse,
the ones in which we all commonly confuse, as well as misuse.
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