As a man was raised but less than he,
For bitter soaked is ill litter thorn,
So bitter his life now comes to be,
And the seconds pass since then was born,

Whatever ere is sought beyond his reach
In thinner air every breath becomes a chore;
Himself the very bore he ought to teach,
Himself lone bare yond he ought be sore,

At the same time, he reads more to aspire,
And pages from which then he shall become
Throw no more than what his worth to respire.
As he laid down through the wreathes some

Folk would forgo if not his sake penchant rest
He slowly wondered through ancient eyes to peer,
Between the lands of men as oceans few ye test,
In He whom Abraham testified ye Lord appear,

As such looks to stars and ants for dots to sigh,
Better half himself remains in half the world,
As ceiling muster is courage thwart from high,
Ere bitter tell the life in meaning furled,

How now is greatness for hours in lustered time,
Where sunken hope appeal for sunken dread to pass,
Mooned by the acid freight as palms once fine
Could possibly have felt smoothness yet fine, alas;

And in his words distant from the mindless crowd
Whispered to himself as he walked through road
And concrete to a single candlelight ought be flamed:
These are the laws of equality in us we erode.

Life, Poetry, Works
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