Before Old Charon
I now stand
A bushel of berries
for this ferryman
The guardsman of fate
expresses his guilt
For the broken promises
he has spilt
forget the italics
of my brash remark
ford the wide styx
sings the deathly lark
a limerick of longing
hollows my mind
the verbal flogging
hardens my heart from the kind
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 9:56 AM UTC
Before Old Charon
I now stand
A bushel of berries
for this ferryman
The guardsman of fate
expresses his guilt
For the broken promises
he has spilt
forget the italics
of my brash remark
ford the wide styx
sings the deathly lark
a limerick of longing
hollows my mind
the verbal flogging
hardens my heart from the kind
