With no paradigm to guide me
I am lost with no words to write
My Conscience is losing ground
My speech fades with the light
Forlorn Mistress of my soul
No pagan muse present
Each word, each phrase is wrung
From my minds contents
Fruits, breads, wild nuts, rare wines
On all of this I have dined
But later in the Night
I have eaten the Bitter bread of thought:
Battles fought out in the Sun
Battles waged in darkened rooms
Won before begun
Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 5:08 PM UTC
With no paradigm to guide me
I am lost with no words to write
My Conscience is losing ground
My speech fades with the light
Forlorn Mistress of my soul
No pagan muse present
Each word, each phrase is wrung
From my minds contents
Fruits, breads, wild nuts, rare wines
On all of this I have dined
But later in the Night
I have eaten the Bitter bread of thought:
Battles fought out in the Sun
Battles waged in darkened rooms
Won before begun
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