Ocular
Vision
"Shiver
me timbers",
the
old man cried.
Who
shall sail here,
on
crimson tide ?
Goliath’s
are not able yet,
to
venture onto heart strings,
where
every detail,
is
like a child that sings.
Could
I voice opinion
of
where the roads alight ?
The
trouble with opinion,
its
never far from right.
Shine
thy lanterns children,
the
wind has come again.
Oh
that glory knows,
the
love of me shall wain.
Gob
off if you dare,
upon
the lofty realm,
hitherto
unseen on tepid greens
my
love could certain overwhelm.
Divided
yet by conflict of
the
words unsaid in jest.
I
could always guess opinions,
by
looking flatly at your chest.
Was
it always thus Horacio,
or
have you led astray,
the
comely wench of Babylon
who
hoped to make you stay ?
In
evil deeds my brother,
has
led along deceit of love.
The
sorry tale she multiplied,
when
singing of saffron skies above.
No comments:
Post a Comment