All my anguish, through time, is
miniscule and can all be held at
the very ebb, of the tip of my broken, finger
For many years, I listened as your tongue
wagged arrows at my, innocent heart.
You were alway a tyrant, damn Firehorse
But, you failed in plundering and pillaging
my village (heart), at the end.
An end, so long, overdue.
The scale of justice, is still off
it's weights & measures,
as the overseer doesn't care,
for my happiness,
as it also neglects its control of
markets so crude.
Yet, my heart is a pioneer,
excited of the fleeting promise,
of Love's reward,
which I am a stranger of.
Hope is my companion and tears for you
are dead, sea salt, memories. |
Submission Name: No More Laments
