Quite Shakespearean! Nicely done.
How bleary-eyed my feelings go through nightmares dark with pressing skies are black as winter's dreary crow misled through mazes built with lies. And so I'm left with twisted knot of beating flesh distressed inside that's ripping through its sinews hot in hope of Daylight's change in tide. And still my mind pours out its life through hand and ink and paper lined. The worry of my missing wife has yet to lift by hand Divine. So seeks my soul a drought of death of sin's sweet, bitter, dry deceit to quench the weak and panting breath that's lost and flirting with defeat. Hear, Oh Skies, my final throw A man so wretched yet so free I ask for peace and end of roe the binding Touch of Liberty. Remy Dou |
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Comments 1 to 1 of 1
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