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Poetry ► A Series of Poems: (8)



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SoulXaldin

Member
Joined
Feb 9, 2017
Messages
350
Awards
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Location
Outer Heaven
To make amends is to become a friend
And to reap means to weep

You and I, connected only by delusion
Feelings, illusion

Arth thou not present?
Old English is for the peasant

I see A, T and V
Darknees, there is, consumes thee

Did I not say Old English is of no need?
Yes, you did indeed

I swear to you, I’ll make it right
Cringed rhythms make it to the light

T’was fun, but got to run
Before the night never ends, and makes like rum


 
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