Why do you flinch your strength
Boasting your shameless reason
No tillers tills its land, shying
away the clusters of moorland
No cause is aptly defined, than
When your victory, seemingly
Fan the end of your ground:
The naked act owning an inch of land
Why do you make pellets of tears
Shooting to my softest heart
No gory end my body will balk, but
By my sweat and your bloody end
No comments:
Post a Comment