The Number of a Man

What a crude context
I spit the wine from my mouth
But the taste lingers

For hardness of hearts
How is one to abide love
Swept under the rug?

If a war of wills
Is what is required here
I don my armor

For it is the Lord's
If stripped bare then I am gone
But who would break it?

I know no promise
I was born without knowledge
And still claim little

I know I love you
I know nothing without that
Kudzu roots so deep

If it is to burn
Could the worm still never die
Intrinsically bound?

If we are liars
Then this whole place is a lie
War lost before fought 

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