||[Dec. 4th, 2003|08:18 am]
What else can I say? The feelings migrate like a transient bird.|
At times we see through this shielded vision; it’s not all a waste.
Malory writes of our heroes come to save,
but so many others speak of the evils come to enslave.
My worries surpass my want for more,
and the time is running out in some far off place.
Living’s not that easy, and death is not so rough.
But ousting my life with cold blade embrace,
will barely wipe the frown from my pale, stone face.
Let us find some solace in the windy towns,
and far above the ground to heights distant from now.
Come forth bearing all gifts that from pure hearts run free;
put shame to the evils who toil for blame.
As though placed in solid statues of gold,
the memories of good men live past those so cold.
Few are remembered who drowned in corruption and vices of men.
Then forward I push for all of mankind, refuse my own wants and evil design.
Refuse all that brings on the robbery of me.