Doth thou Parle the night's
Vastidity?
Wouldst be thine haver of thy
Uneyed, thought-sickness strewn umoving
Travels?
Ratherst, it be that, it is thine
trade-fallen quarters; thine debt as
the Militarist is mete by the
Languish bestrewn on thine epochtic mind.
The morrow breaks...
Categories:
uneyed, courage, poetry,
Form: Dramatic Verse