Taylor Parsons Poet Rhyme

Lyseachearolt

Lyseachearolt be their name, 
twins of the same flesh and 
game.

one with legs, one with heart; 
be they forced together and 
death do them part.

Fixed emotion, stagnant 
freewill; machine by nature, 
harder to kill.

Worrisome, weary; staggering, 
stout; together, one move, one 
step, one pout.

Harder to feel, than feel the 
floor; with no love, one silent 
roar.

Why be here if here is not
there? Happiness won’t come if 
there is no share.

Away with this heart, for what 
is the gain? Not worth surviving 
for only more pain.

Anguish no more with one last 
beat, as they both fall to their 
feet.

Lyseachearolt be their name, 
twins of the same flesh and 
game.

But how can you play when you 
cannot speak; cannot hear and 
cannot seek?

And how could heart feel 
without control, while legs 
walked with no soul.

Lyseachearolt, without heart, 
will never be what one calls art.

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