Σάββατο, 1 Μαΐου 2010

Ode to the Bred-Winner Figure



Forget me not, he softly whispered
Forgive me always, his ego blistered

The game was quit, in our cold embrace
The bond was ripped, from the fire-eyes escape

You grew me up, like a seagull does its young
The rights and wrongs, to avoid in a storm

When tempests came, and disturbed my slumber
Your lights bedazzled my pathways that were under

No Hades more fierce than our mighty will
No better Stallion to work us out from our Dreams

Mentor of Despite you drew your shadow to Be
With neglect to share thy Ropes with Generosity

My Father, always proud and shamed
Thy pain, my sorrow, thy hate, my aim

Another day unseized in thy pallid routine
Thy nightmares are prolonged by the bred-winning schemes

My heart shall Travel abroad without Us
And when I’m laid cold, I remember to Forgive Us…

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