A Bitter Spree
Pale turned the bow that
blest the sky
all that was blue at dusk...
did fly,
my mind is blurred and
now I cry:
the mud is dry, the mud is
dry.
Hope was lost within isles
and hills
the water splatters on me
hot chills
felt in a rush, craving
pleasure pills:
my passion distils, my
passion distils.
In this cruise, I seek but a
lake,
to be cocooned like
hotcake,
yet not sure of what is at
stake;
give me a brake, give me a
brake.
The dawn threw in a bait,
now I see
my heart was hooked by a
bee;
sweetness exhaled, bitter
spree
under the tree, under the
tree.
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