Morning Calm

Your tongue came crushing through the splintered pine
To grant me worthless words which linger still,
In wells of bitter torment ripe with swill
That drown this hellish fate which you named mine,
To make me swallow notions, “poor and fine
Until I bowed and broke a moment shrill
With waste of your dull thesis laid to spill,
So fondly folded by malignant wine.
Compose thyself and be a man of worth!
Is it a credit to blood and allies
To talk in circles with no tail or root?
Cease barking!  Rally heels and heart to earth,
For now we march ahead to raise our cries
Against disciples who shall soon be mute.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s