Purveyors say they may return
but have I turned my back on caution
as my star dims
commencement ends in pyres ,
the flames speaks from within this indelible truth,
a manifest has not been written
ill suitability steals around.
Whatever I sought
was the applause from tired hands
as my pen is often too.
Feb 15, 2014
Feb 15, 2014 at 3:02 PM UTC
Purveyors say they may return
but have I turned my back on caution
as my star dims
commencement ends in pyres ,
the flames speaks from within this indelible truth,
a manifest has not been written
ill suitability steals around.
Whatever I sought
was the applause from tired hands
as my pen is often too.
Request permission to use this poem