decrepit halo

And I can only commit these wrongs.
When did dulcet tones so right
become these garbled hellish songs?
These spears in my heart
allow some part of me to weep,
and the demons in my head
could rip any lost soul from sleep.
Labels: poem
A nattering nabob against nascent nihilism, but certainly not consonance. The blog has expanded in many directions all at once to include poetry, pictures, and discussions of philosophy, current events, music, politics, government, and military affairs.
Labels: poem
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home