Poem Of Life
I think of
things contemporary, not on yesterday’s bid
Dreams of
wide open spaces, with blasphemous nightmares
My standard
occupation, dwelled in the concepts of selling wares
My soul
quenched, I drank from the fountain of the lady of life
She whispered
things in my ears; I was filled with unholy strife
Deserts in
valleys of mountains, hidden from the beautiful sun
I run to
balance the nature of things with the barrel of my gun
Danger lays
in wait, in the fortunes of the wicked entrepreneur
His present
is fruitful, his future devoid of shape and volatile
He flirts
with happiness and sleeps with many women unfaithful
Darkness starts
in his times, it slithers, he starts to shiver
His home,
his wife, his life and his property, are all too fragile
He makes
for another country, when his death happens to pull
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