Voice of piercing heart
Of eastern lovely call
Sound of dieing soul
Through the mist of a warful glade
Bivouac still me there
The gun stole my refulgent beauty
Gone is her sound
Heard is her call
Just in the night.
DEEP INTO POLITICS
I thought for a moment I Imagined peace laced with war I saw the efforts of a recalcitrant looser The beauty of it, I cou...
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Presently my soul lingers in limbo; not agnostic The weary feet of me gets weary not; soon to be No mortal seek what I seek; perhaps know wh... -
I SPEAK OF A TYRANT I speak of a tyrant Whose cruelty ebbs not Whose acts of predicaments recognizes no truce The joy of the people ...
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Time is due as it is due Our own will be a sample for mankind Going and never to retreat Envies from our foes will be a norm T...