As I surmise
all that is me strewn and cluttered,
My conscious lies casually shorn and shuttered,
For here lie the spoils of stubborn iniquity,
I shuffle and toil, floundering in frailty.
Oh what great havoc, what conscious so lewd,
Creates such traffic which now spoils the fruit,
Of truly righteous deeds committed by a scurrilous man,
Of whom I could no better know, no better understand,
For this terribly lost and forever forlorn soul,
Is none other than me shivering and sniveling so,
And as helpless as I suddenly appear to be,
I now understand the strength pride provides so easily,
For there is purpose in pride, yet none in shame,
As ambition carries us blind to who’s at blame,
And just where is the woe when the devil may care,
For we are soon found alone, our conscious left bare,
And as I embark into this desolate place,
My horrors so dark, my fears crimson in taste,
Forward I race into the perilous pit,
With none other to blame for this simple life I quit.
Poetic License Suspended
- by My Gull Wheels On
A string of poetic tales, about my life, my love
and, my Lord...
Observations in scales, of mortal plight, once
we chance, accord...
Imagination pales, and yet just might, share a
glance, of more...
Propping powerful sails, from my short life,
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Gull Wheels On