Said of Whomsoever It Might Concern
His mad flight, At the perfect hour, Into the tunnel of light, Reflects cunning, no matter how dour. “Back to dreaming! Never!” - conjectures he; “The siren’s singing, Is well expendable, and I will end up free!” Thus cherished mementoes Are rendered insignificant While the chasm grows Deep into him, master of sincere cant!
posted by Danial @ 04:08
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