Speak not to us the deeds of men

June 21, 2016 § Leave a comment

Speak not to us the deeds of men
Who come and go and come again.
Such deeds are naught but folly all
Which rise ‘pon pride and promptly fall.
When men are gone, just scattered dust
We’ll count spring’s green and autumn’s rust
Till ink doth dry on Aeon’s pen.
Speak not to us the deeds of men.

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Arboreal Watcher

March 5, 2013 § Leave a comment

Arboreal Watcher

Age itself is a form of life
One steeped in hate, betrayal and strife
Despite the torch, the saw, the blade
Their roots in human blood arrayed.

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