A single shed each man has
To cover his tool discreetly
For prudence reigns, exposures opposure
Nice, secure, and neatly.
A cacophony of entropy breaks the serenity of antiphony destroying the sanctimony of Persephone's telephony.
None shall attempt to tempt the Fate's fate without the right rites.
Without joy or love, without or hate or mirth
A ghost walks atop the crust of the earth
Seasons change ceaselessly in eternity's wake
While our ghost carries on with a downtrodden gait
My body is sore from wars long ago fought; the victors of which are remembered not.
Were I more than I am would my peace be moreso or less? For each thing we desire brings with it entire sets of circumstances, most of which were we aware of them ahead of time we would graciously decline to begin with.