Monday, July 18, 2016

Exercise 2

I write to you expecting nothing but
More of the same and exactly what
I suppose you've pre-decided.

But how could you stare and sit idly by
While Romans burned and trampled Trojans died
Under Your condemning silence?

Now my heart pounds with the hooves of Life's cruel horde
Who light slow fires, dedicating to their Lord
The fattest of my best desires.



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