Oh! My heart is not fortitude of knights,
It is feared by wind and nights,
Tears, which comes from deep within,
And falls on ink blue emotions written.
My mind is afraid of thorny roses,
Blood, daggers and ghostly spirits,
Friendly pearls lost in purple sea,
Innocent like black mischief tea.
Even a flower can adorn a coffin,
And diamond studded in death cart,
Lovers only break hearts,
And soul wounded by holy darts.
My soul feels weak and vapid,
When it beholdS life slipping in rapids.
When a beggar begs and receives,
No pity but lonely monody.
And in this fearful place,
I am a liar doing justice,
A simple man soaked in sins and happiness,
Then why should not I feel tired,
Burdened by good days and sadness.
Keshie
14th august,2004
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