Philosopher

Philosopher Old,
Philosopher Brave.
He speaks out to all that are enslaved.
Spends his life preaching through day and night,
while his words echo with might.
Fears not, that his enemies are enraged.
Philosopher Old.
Philosopher Brave.
The flowers grow tall upon your grave.



JSergi
Copyright © | Year Posted 2013

Poem

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Wash Avatar
November 3, 2014 at 2:44 AM
Truth never dies it just multiplies. This is a succinct, descriptive poem with an easy flow. Thanks
Sergi Avatar
November 3, 2014 at 4:25 PM
So glad you like this one thank you for the post Lara!
Peterson Avatar
December 13, 2013 at 8:55 PM
Goodness, this is strong. Death follows the virtuous testator, and it has ever been so.
Sergi Avatar
December 13, 2013 at 8:57 PM
Thank you Mark for the post
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