Friday, August 1, 2008
Sunny Wheels
Perhaps on this road to Elysium,
Lies a pot of gold.
But the Beggar does not see beyond the mound of dirt,
And curse Fate with bitter words.
Fate O' Fate!
Why does thou put rags on me?
What wrong hath i done but live..
To suffer this hollow dream.
Fate flutters by silently,
Voices speak "Move forward little one,
And thou shall find it hollow no more..."
But like whispers of the wind,
Words bounded seldom are un'cipher.
Tired i am to travel,
Laments the Beggar,
Back down the path to his unwanted hut,
He walks...
Fate sighs and moves on,
And the Devil flashes God a grin,
God returns a kindly smile,
Shivers doubt in the Devil's spleen.
Lies a pot of gold.
But the Beggar does not see beyond the mound of dirt,
And curse Fate with bitter words.
Fate O' Fate!
Why does thou put rags on me?
What wrong hath i done but live..
To suffer this hollow dream.
Fate flutters by silently,
Voices speak "Move forward little one,
And thou shall find it hollow no more..."
But like whispers of the wind,
Words bounded seldom are un'cipher.
Tired i am to travel,
Laments the Beggar,
Back down the path to his unwanted hut,
He walks...
Fate sighs and moves on,
And the Devil flashes God a grin,
God returns a kindly smile,
Shivers doubt in the Devil's spleen.
posted by Clumsy at 6:49 AM, | 
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