his cherub face so well adored
he is less than intended for
but evermore he will remain
though countenance may fade or changehis cloak and dagger never fade
if only for remaining days
if only til our hearts have ceased
our beats at end, the music stops.
Crescent smile, a victors delight
what more could we have saved tonight
if we had spent those hours in sleep
acting on our intuition?
broken, am I a liars corpse
forgetting to accept his course
for hypocritical critiques
of crown and cross and rule of weak?
No comments:
Post a Comment