Muse, oh muse--moony fellow!
Why so mark these Magic Hours
Unpredictable; colored the same?
Demanding sacrifice unwilling
To summit the ledge of human...
Ride on to what bidding?
Not nought lost, gain how promised;
Proof lay with the pudding.
My online thoughtspace.
Copyright 2011 Seth C. Burgess.
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1 comments:
Looks like you must have inherited the poetic gene!
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