If shook but never leave,
Gulps a blood fair poison,
Boils another, ah a world;
To have shunned mine, nay;
For yonder fall, to fall,
Wishes an escape from here,
Alas no sight beaut here,
That no hearing good to bear,
Walks from the sun padded
A sweat that stains me so,
To stain my blood with this,
Poison me again that I shall;
Wander through mine heart here,
These hands effected more then;
Bleed my wings ere I cut them,
For reality stains my soul
But my spirit remains high,
Unchaste yet, though threw amiss
The song of words none spoken never,
To think now, lest act again;
Failures here are victories later,
Once the seconds fade, so return,
And again we find ourselves gained
With a smile once, but faulted
That our enemies smirk but applaud,
So we walk through them and gesture,
A gentleman’s virtue is his diplomacy,
Greet them now, sweep them later;
Such is the way we are, ne please none.

Civilisation, K-Poetry, Mysterious, Poetry, Works
, , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
%d bloggers like this: