quinta-feira, 10 de dezembro de 2015

The tired mule wastes away, along the carrot still.

All aboard the last train going nowhere
In particular
No rush nor delay should slow us down
Onward as it stood for a poorer excuse
Of either birth right or privilege
To be discussed post-offense in therapeutic treatment
See Hall 5 for 'that', dearest
Ever so smooth, as if the very Wind embraced change
Silly me, rambling about
Head resting in a dead man shoulder
There cannot simply be love weighted down
By past regrets and climbs still
Onward up that Hill, there don't you see
Limbs fall flat, were it ever sand and decay
Sadness and despair
Inflating those who stare and command
Comment and entertain
Three cheers for defeat and fences
That surround those too weak to build defenses
And tarnish their egos, set aside for a rainy day
That never truly came

Surely one is worth more then this
Two bullets and dry turkey
A gift of God and pain for a fortnight
Calculating cost with the expertise
Of a blind man that walks dreadfully fine
Great indeed, backwards and onward
Cannot be stopped, furthermore:
won't you let me know,
as we set below,
deep en-traced in our mowing temper
oblivious to traffic and the overall commotion;
that you didn't had to go

Time gets slow
Eyelids struggle
My breath breaks through
But the body gives way
Ever so fragile, eternity no more
Kiss me darling
If only you could.





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