Jus Burnin Time

Posted: February 13, 2013 in Uncategorized

Slight of hand and forked tongue,

you think this war of yours is won.

Though erect, you may, this tower of hope,

your change has ‘scaped a slippery slope.

and once you have them in your clutch,

you’ll say “It doesn’t matter much…

Let sunrise come and crown me king,

Let children bow to me and sing”.


For joy! For joy! For the Fiddler, oh king,

will surely foil your plan,

He’s seen your pride, thus hands his bow

to the archer; both horse and man.

Ophiuchus fails to elude his aim.

Far more than one, mere man, can claim.

It’s written in the stars above,

and figuratively speaking, fits like a glove.


(Acquit me.)


While you may look up and see,

nothing that will set you free.

a dark expanse of hopeless dread,

scattered thoughts, within your head.

A picture in the dark, at play.

The story set, to light your way.

Now wake, and open up your eyes,

the serpent seeks to breed demise,

and if, your sword, you will not wield,

regretful tears wet burning field.


Carpe Diem



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