"heresy" poems
Coffee , cake and tea
Where are all the Jonquills
March has come late
Without a yellow promise
Without a breath of warm air
The sea is shallow
Without shells
Just goes on and on
Not even up to my knees
And she talks of heresy
Conjectures , probabilities
On and on and
On and on
Fools make mistakes
Wise men err
To one man the sun sets
Another rises to the occasion
Feb 28, 2015
Feb 28, 2015 at 11:50 PM UTC
Holding a pen in hand, preparing pitch-black ink for a blank paper,
I begin with gentle, delicate movements, letting it slide over it.
One line follows another, one without any bother, any care to it.
A regular starshaped polygon, surrounded by a simple circle has been made, one which holds meaning to it, hidden underneath ink.
Some might gaze at it as a sign of a greater evil, heresy or worse,
Others might watch it in awe, a sign of protection a symbol of hope.
A maze with two ends has been made, each with its own belief.
However, my tired eyes, which have been worn, gaze at it and see beauty, the connection of each line contains grace, closed by the circle.
Thus a smile has been cast on my face, as I look at it another time,
Noticing how the black ink has taken the papers purity my cheering sight perishes, saddens in an instant, what I had drawn had become unrecognizable, as the paper spread the ink and distorted this image.
The broken in the light, moist and now fragile, drops through, in wonderous, ominous distraction, leaving a great hole in the middle.
Unable to be ever repaired the paper finds its trail into the trash,
A puddle left of what it was, mixed with the pitch black, had to be cleaned up, so that another attempt could be made, another try.
So I pick up my pen once again and connect the lines with a smile.
~ Umi
Mar 3, 2018
Mar 3, 2018 at 10:51 AM UTC
Deceit, my throne
Agony, my crown
Within an ocean of tears, the silent man drowns
Pain so clear, across this grim façade
Life serene, cut so close, by this paper god
This seed of market and stock, supply and demand
The story of capitalism written by greed’s melancholy hand
A story so sad, imbued with regret
Consumerism the tragedy- heresy is debt
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 7:19 AM UTC
Toking on a cloud with ******* Jesus and his family
Lame folks ask me how,
its cause I ******* smoke
religiously
No God I smoke religious tree,
I get ****** in the name of heresy
You angry penguin ****** preach acceptance
So praise the Lord and ******* shame on me
My guise is Satan *****
and my swag is undisguisible
heartless and no conscience,
sicksicksix most recognizable
-that statement may surprise a little but since we all surmise a little
Why deny me as the devil when
When I clearly play a golden fiddle. . .
From Hell I made a deal
and there is no repeal
nothing you see is real,
I will invade and pervade your mind
So wait in anticipation,
life's a figment of your own imagination
I'll watch you dissipate into oblivion
Pound for pound,
I'm a cenobite at heart,
I just haven't a heart to be found
It's not hard for me
its profound,
the sound of suffering
your soul is ours now
and I will tear it apart
Here's a toast to our orchestral
Symphony of the flesh
My swag's so ******* flawless
100 carrot diamonds,
******* love me cause I'm gorgeous
can't stag no more, fat stacks galore
embrace the force it opens doors
Is there a source, but of course -
it just lies dormant/
What's a ***** to a floor except a doormat
And you know that I'm no diplomat
It's just a fact I ******* hate those stinky ratchets
And I sharply lack tact
tell that ***** her ***** smells like Magikarp
Body language, that of Snorlax
someone once asked
why don't have an open mind
brains would spill out
if my ******* snapback
weren't so tight
Its the season to seize C's
and hallucinations be dazzlin em
don't believe your eyes son,
its only a phantasm but
Words are like playdough,
fun to play with not to eat
So clap your ******* trap and get lost to the beat
I can't be defeat
So suckle my teet
My verses are perverse
I'm high as **** words: failing
Get low
ill as **** so ******* sick,
blowed half past belligerent,
tweaking off my nasal drips,
There's serenity in debauchery -
***** I ******* bask in it
have a taste
basketcase,
I drink red bull it gives me ******* wings
"Memento quod sumus lascivio venatus"
Remember that you are playing the Game
Nov 29, 2013
Nov 29, 2013 at 9:00 PM UTC
When the Earth was spinning,
All vacant and wasted,
And a voice that came thundering,
All the poison, that you all tasted,
And all the one left, now unwashed,
hearing nothing but silence,
becoming the one's who suffered,
when all the believers, died,
and the non believers, survived,
the destruction of the planet,
hatred heated by a human cannon.
Now who will pray for Babylon,
When humanity acts upon,
Now, Who will sing for Babylon,
When Humanity is the Evil Spawn,
Now who will pray for Babylon,
Amon of the breath and Air,
Amon, where is Thebes,
Now, Who will sing for Babylon,
Humanity, Governments, Religion,
Black, LGBTQ Communities,
Planting the Evil Seeds.
When the Earth was spinning,
All vacant and wasted,
Adam and Eve was created,
To love and be Mother Earth,
Father Dearest,
Forbidden Fruit that sent you,
to Hell,
Oh Adam, You're the Devil, Lucifer,
Adam, Did you heard the snake voice,
Why did you follow the advice,
To pick and eat,
Do you live in all of us,
Do we eat, to become Deceit.
Now who will pray for Babylon,
When humanity acts upon,
Now, Who will sing for Babylon,
When Humanity is the Evil Spawn,
Now who will pray for Babylon,
Amon of the breath and Air,
Amon, where is Thebes,
Now, Who will sing for Babylon,
Humanity, Governments, Religion,
Black, LGBTQ Communities,
Planting the Evil Seeds.
When the Earth was spinning,
All vacant and wasted,
Everything is our posion,
Welcome Poseidon beside us,
Say Hello Pontius,
God in our heads,
Run to the Waves of that the tide tends,
In foul disposition trends,
As we welcome all our catasthrophes,
All the hate, all the lies,
All our devine that we hide in Denial,
Suicidal Kings and Queens, Here our Heresy,
Maybe Religion is a win,
Maybe it just a way of sin,
All I know it just a linchpin of support,
Belief and stability,
Belief and hatred,
Maybe Communities in it to win it,
to scream and fight and hit back,
False Flag, Attack that,
Found Guilty through entrapment,
Of our commandments,
You're cooperation is commended,
Since the corporation demands it.
Now who will pray for Babylon,
When humanity acts upon,
Now, Who will sing for Babylon,
When Humanity is the Evil Spawn,
Now who will pray for Babylon,
Amon of the breath and Air,
Amon, where is Thebes,
Now, Who will sing for Babylon,
Humanity, Governments, Religion,
Black, LGBTQ Communities,
Planting the Evil Seeds.
Nov 16, 2020
Nov 16, 2020 at 9:32 PM UTC
There Is But One Law (The Dancer's Coda)
There is but one set of laws,
One that need be obeyed,
One that brooks no heresy,
One that gives no absolution.
One that needs no priests, no canons,
One that that refuses disobedience.
We all bend knee at altar invisible,
Though feasance never requested.
The Laws of Physics.
A body at rest, a body in motion.
Laws immutable, unconditional,
Equations, proofs, demonstrable,
Inequalities inexcusable, banished.
Dancer says:
I am heretic, even these laws I refuse.
My body denies limitations,
My mind believes I will make do
What it could not, but yesterday.
Defiance from wire to wire is the
Fuel in my veins, fear but a detail,
Leaping from from ten meters more,
My Declaration of Independence.
My body plastic, my mind ethereal,
Some mock, call it trickery,
Some hail, call me hero.
There are forces greater than mine,
Forces irrevocable, mathematically superior.
Each day my force grows as well,
Visions imagined supersede the
Tedium of definitions, of boundary lines.
Bend the law, conquer the null, fill the void.
Each day sketch, devise, organize a
New rebellion, follow only one command,
Honor but a single battle cry.
Leap, then fall!
That dancer, your only law,
That heretic, thine only coda.
Action is freedom.
For you are dancer,
Whisper as you leap:
The Fifth Freedom I possess,
The Freedom to Fall.
May 17th, 2013
May 18, 2013
May 18, 2013 at 4:12 PM UTC
They Call It Heresy,
We Call It Genuine Science
We designed the genes' primers,
Ordered them along the oligomers.
Our aim is an elaborate one,
It involves molecular cloning,
Sequence characterization, and
Relative expression analysis of
Bovine Trefoil Factors.
Now we hope to clone the gene,
The gene which is of a bovine origin,
By extensive working hours input,
And bearing in mind the risks,
Of not getting the desired output,
The possibility of failure always therein,
But pregnancy, healing & immunity it's governing.
Three types of trefoil factors there are,
TFF1: It suppresses gastric carcinoma,
And also helps in pregnancy,
TFF2: Helps exclusively in cancer research,
TFF3: Helps exclusively in pregnancy maintenance,
And also our prime interest.
After cloning the genes,
We have to sequence them,
And after characterization,
We have to analyse them,
After relative expression.
Dec 8, 2016
Dec 8, 2016 at 12:40 PM UTC
catch the last wave and i'll be there
combing the beachhead of our misery
swollen with big love, choking on the theory of our negative heavens
you and i,
we marvel at the heresy of our wisdom
and cherish no giant over divine
we david the furies that are nephelim
but conjure no gods where the plastic can't be useful
we dunder in the bluff of innocent cupids
we -
the idiots on the cliff -
dancing
when the glockenspiel itches !
clock faced and *** up
i'll be there with black honey, " With You "
no doubt
pondering the wrinkles in your sleep breath.
the sweet killing of tomcats and mackerels
the plain fact that our noses
are numb from eskimo kissing
in the igloo of our perpetual alaska
the arctic furnace of our wild fires of pure illusion
to trod stunning over hell's paradise
and catch a glimpse of snarky
stark Silence...
You
catch the last wave -
and i'll be nothing but the singing bones of the wind
in the throes of an ****** of " need you " and only you.
a chosen cyclone from heaven
i'll be just a little boy
in the clutches of a dead teddy
where the poppies sing
hallelujah !
and our hearts blight the orchid of our accord.
and down -
comes, what ?
what do we do ? what could we possibly ?
we hopscotch the bonnets
and glue ravenous bumblebees
to a blanket
of snow.
cause we have the technology -
we can disassemble it...
discretely.
Aug 6, 2013
Aug 6, 2013 at 3:24 PM UTC
So many succumb to Group Think
in such a way that it is dangerous.
From a young age, though I knew not yet of the notion,
I rejected opinions passed to me as fact
for the reason that opinions are subjective:
I did not hold as 'beautiful' what they told me I ought to.
I did not hold as 'wondrous' what they said was so.
I did not hold as 'difficult' what others had not yet accomplished.
I did not regard as 'easy' what others had yet done.
I was not serious when they told me I must be.
I made jokes when they deemed it distasteful.
I laughed at the hypocrisy, right in it's face.
I didn't just lay down and accept it as fate.
I did not like the music they told me to like.
I did not believe the biased history they taught as absolute and true.
I did not worship the mythic Gods they made to be literal.
I refused to pledge my allegiance in a brainwashed mass
to any flag of any nation under any God with Liberty and/or Justice for merely a few.
Over time I acquired my own taste for these things:
I grew to appreciate the discrepancy
between what I was told
and what I observed.
From there, I formulated my own opinions,
I became an Individualist.
A Heretic.
They sure don't make it easy.
Individualism, to me, does not connotate isolationism,
though with isolation can come self-awareness and self-discipline.
Individualism, to me, refers to finding one's own Path;
being a Heretic; staying true to your own Path.
To be a Rebel to undue Authority.
To not be afraid to defy your peers.
To be an Anarchist within one's self.
To practice Civil Disobedience.
Plus, the friends you will make if you live this way
will blow your ******* mind
and last you a lifetime.
-
Opinions are never concrete; they must curve and morph with the ebb and flow of your particular life.
Opinions and Taste must be relative to one's own personality and life if they are to be genuine.
Even still, the pull of the social tide is not so easily resisted:
You are succumbing to Group Think
even more than you might think
but I think, or at least I think (that) I think
that we can all overcome Group Think
if we would all just stop and think.
Don't you think?
Apr 10, 2013
Apr 10, 2013 at 5:54 PM UTC
When the funding is cut
So the hospitals shut
That’s a Tory
When the poverty bites
And you lose human rights
That’s a Tory
Such excess
Better reassess
Better repossess
Better get yourself private healthcare
Overtaxed if you work
Unemployed? Then you're scrounging on welfare
When there’s bigoted views
Blatant lies on the news
That’s a Tory
When the biggest and best
Are too rich to arrest
That’s a Tory
But they’re lax
Covering the cracks
Never paying tax
Claiming everything on expenses
They can steal with a smile
While they peddle their flimsy defences
When they're guilty of fraud
And they're banking abroad
That's a Tory
If they're selling your school
When 'austere' means 'cruel'
That's a Tory
Too much spin
Slogan and a grin
Wearing pretty thin
Bussing people in to applaud them
Any law can be bought
If you're well off enough to afford them
That's all folks and remember, you can't spell Theresa May without heresy
**
Apr 24, 2017
Apr 24, 2017 at 7:04 PM UTC
My heart was found guilty
Of witchcraft by my brain
He dragged her and beat her
Spewed his hatred for her
Tied her to a wooden stake
My brain couldn't comprehend
The magic of my heart
Why she never wavered
How she always loved
He started this persecution
Because he couldn't understand
I always felt her growing
Beautifully and powerfully
With every beat she won me over
All I did was want to protect her
But my brain called it heresy
My punishment was to watch
As he burned her alive
I heard the shrieks of hope die
The smell of her love stung
My nostrils and it haunts me still
I walk around pretending
As if nothing had ever happened
My brain condemned me to live
This life without my heart
Without the love and only
With the memory of that night
Every day I burn like she did
As every day I hate like he did
I was unable to convince him
That she just wanted to love
But my brain was too afraid
Of the powers of my heart
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 12:10 PM UTC
The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference. The opposite of art is not ugliness, it's indifference. The opposite of faith is not heresy, it's indifference. And the opposite of life is not death, it's indifference.
Elie Wiesel. 4/11/2016.
Apr 11, 2016
Apr 11, 2016 at 12:41 AM UTC
Phanerogams are plants which produce seeds.
The wanton harlot may be laid against the wall, with legs splayed, and may also have given birth to unbridled rage.
However, even though such stages of development can be entitled as “son of a ***** it is worth noting that all behaviour has meaning, my darkened companion of presumed sophistication.
The scholastic scribes will etch their wisdom upon the hardness of our vile vanity.
I hold in my hand a gothic stone, where those who stand before the courts accused of heresy and witchcraft can plead innocence before chanting crowds of bloodlust.
The reaper will gather the harvest at Lughnasadh, whilst the olfactory nerve propagates her funeral games amidst the cutting of ancient cornfields.
As we perch upon the gallows end, let us join hands and chant the mantras of old.
Photosynthesis is a forensic entrancement where there is no rest for the sinner.
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 11:43 PM UTC
mmm, palce lizać, albo wsadzić je w dúpe i nadawać sygnał wriggly-wriggly alter: wriggly-pigglety; counter-alt? calling it: the miracle of five croutons, and two pieces of sushi... c'mon, let's go crazy! and take it to the excesses permitted by the original feat! (yes, i mean the fish parts of sushi, there's enough carbohydrates in the croutons, so yes, no rice-bed for the tartars).
ć is the puritan's aversion to cz / chai;
or at least an exfoliation curbor.
i write honey,
honey honey honey,
i write honey,
honey honey honey
p'ooh bear
droned in on it.
when i write,
i write honey,
honey honey O'Milee.
from serving in the US and A
navy, to a beach-buggy
accident.
when i write, i write
honey -
*** e -
Atilla styled liquorice -
lee co reesh - not
liquidated rice -
ghosts of latin almost everywhere;
quadruple that.
convene and converse -
contrary collective.
some say this might as well
be the famous goldberg sardines;
when i write, i write honey,
i write: honey honey honey...
will you be my Duracell bunny?
honey, will you be my
******** par excellance?
i see... no, you won't be.
the museum of Greek sculpture
was vandalised!
guess what they took,
the ****** fiendish crooks!
with a wet splash of colour
comes the cold marble artifice -
a bit like the cool-mouth
refrigerator of a woman during
felatio... still don't know
how she gets that gob down
below room temperature.
(heresy input, never start a
sentence with an) and
there you have it,
writing, catering for
abstractionism,
just after he said: they're on a diet.
Dec 14, 2016
Dec 14, 2016 at 10:49 AM UTC
So it wrinkles, this Righteous Heresy
All due to Flavours spat-out by your Youth
To lose that Touch; Then amend Destiny
I guess after all is the Proper Truth
And notice your Baggage all Night and Day
With the many Props you have to carry
Since, this Cage, the Kingdom's Letter your Way
You found the Mole to a Mountain he'll tarry
So, Fortune's East beg for your timed receipt
Though a Million shy it is not enough
And cope this Passage with your Conceit
To join the Mob and level your Thoughts rough.
As for me, to the House I contemplate
Whether to abandon or shift my Fate.
Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 11:20 PM UTC
Once for Halloween
I dressed up as Athena
The Greek goddess
My favorite Greek goddess
And it was a decent costume
Your standard iParty fare
Paired with an elaborate hairdo and some 50 cent earrings
And I knew I was only a cheap imitation
Nothing close to the real thing
For no one would ever build me a temple
Burn cattle in my name
Put on white robes and fall to their knees
For me
No, not for me
But for Athena
Oh, how they fell!
How the ancient Greeks worshipped her very name
Gave her their capital city
And dedicated the most powerful force to her
Wisdom
That force which drove the philosophers
The very energy
That sustained Socrates
And Plato
And Aristotle
And all those dead guys we read about in class
I was in a class
Reading the words those dead guys collected
In their moments of clarity
But all I could think about
All I really wanted
Was to throw on a white robe
And fall to my knees at the Parthenon
Begging for wisdom, wisdom
Please, Athena, some wisdom!
I don't care if it's heresy
I don't care if you're a myth nowadays
Because you once reigned
You once stood on Mount Olympus
In all your ancient power
And watched your people crying out wisdom, Athena, wisdom!
Please!
I wish
I could have been there
I wish I could have seen
The day the goddess cracked open Zeus's skull
And was born
Fully armed
Ready for her battle
Not the fight for wisdom, no
The fight she faced was undying
The war she would lead
Would ripple through the ages
Taking all civilizations
And tearing at their social order
For it was the men she was fighting
The disbelieving fools who put her *** down
Taking all women's wisdom
And deeming it inferior
Substandard
Not good enough
So Athena blazed in glory
And for her, men believed
Believed in their mothers and wives and daughters
Saw in that enthroned goddess
The sparks that fueled women's minds
Yes, I wish I'd been there
I wish I could have kissed her sword
And asked her to stick around
To blaze her way to the twenty-first century
And make these guys tremble, too
Instead
I look around my 80% male college of engineering
And wonder why I need to prove my worth
Simply because I have a second x chromosome
I wish that I could blaze in glory
And dazzle them all the same
That my Halloween costume could be enough to fool them
That they would turn their toga-party bedsheets
Into white robes
And fall to their knees
Gasping, "Wisdom, wisdom!"
And that, for one moment
I could be their goddess
Nov 27, 2010
Nov 27, 2010 at 6:38 PM UTC
They hide behind
A masked impunity
One that loiters on the lips
That gathers dust
While proclaiming
A nightmare of angels
Who haunt derangement
In startling blasphemous hullucinations
Which excite to the point of delerium
Who menace with grandiose examples
Which surpass all human capacities
Renouncing indisputable rights as heresy
Keeping their stones not cast, unthrown
Aug 8, 2012
Aug 8, 2012 at 3:04 PM UTC
Lo, the drunken ordinance of light through
stained glass, lest to rehash the peopled
white of infinity.
Reach...with what folding passion second
guesses the labor of its love...the warm
footfalls of the sun overlaying the intricacy
of a snowflake...as captions of bone
dissolving upon the motion picture.
Perpetually opening seasons enamored
directionless...cancellation and activation
which is The Spark upon dark...striations
of dreams upon the gyres of galaxies.
Proofs positive of palpable breath, given
and taken in gloried passage.
The cloistered ghost gifted the laughability
of its cloister.
A polish fit for heresy...listen to the
crystalline structure as it bats its eyelashes.
Oct 11, 2014
Oct 11, 2014 at 10:27 AM UTC
387
The sweetest Heresy received
That Man and Woman know—
Each Other’s Convert—
Though the Faith accommodate but Two—
The Churches are so frequent—
The Ritual—so small—
The Grace so unavoidable—
To fail—is Infidel—
2.4k
Iron shackles never felt so good baby
Nothing ever felt sweeter than the fleet of your breeze
Chain me up, slash my knees
Come on baby, you be the bird ill be the bee
You can hold my hand as we traverse the sea trying to escape this vanity
I've got the heart, you've got the key
Believe
And when my eyes become heavier than my heart
You can be the one to hang me up for heresy
You can keep me in the corner of your closeted heart
Your beak will run wild and mock me with parody
While I buzz through my life, with the weight of all my yesterday's
Maybe all the greed will open my eyes to see
Maybe this is the key, maybe I can finally be free
Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 7:06 AM UTC
when a nation implodes into a civil war,
it is heresy for other nations to intervene,
i didn’t hear of the french intervention
in the english civil war...
or a german intervention in the french civil war...
****** didn’t invade spain, and no african
nation intervened in the american civil war...
or mongolia invading russia via siberia
to save the tsar...
but i guess the concept of
globalisation changed all that,
when western nations forgot that they have
professional armies... while syria
has a liechtenstein / gibraltar army equivalent...
former postmen, cooks, bakers butchers and lawyers
turned professional “footballers;”
i can draw you a dairy cow in crayons if you like,
oozing blood: if this view is too complex to digest -
they do it with passion...
your soldiers do it for a paycheque, get it?
Nov 19, 2015
Nov 19, 2015 at 9:43 AM UTC
we are
a highway kiss
away from madness —
tonight, you burn
what's left of my breaths
and i stay and sit
and hold the matches
to this roadside fire
in total awe, darling
like an angel after his fall.
some things, too raw to die for heresy —
some things, too raw to be an anomaly.
Apr 11, 2021
Apr 11, 2021 at 10:38 AM UTC
Rustle in the leaves,
tussle with the vines,
afoot in the tree of life,
the gutsy snake coiling,
Raddled and rattled with mans sin,
Divulgence to the loner who cherished the fruit,
in the dusky orange red skies which brought in the adhen
and from the tolling bells in the distant church ,
While the snake lolloped in the stark blue skies,
Manipulating this oppo for the abyss.
The wandering seam of the night,moon,
With flickering light forbade the seance on the seemlessly never ending night,
Pity the snake for another morn would rise
For it will have to go to the *** ,no the pit.
The ***** and cuckoo within cooee , chanted and coerced another morn out !
Following the sun like the grail, the people lounged in to the waters of the ganges.
While broods of hurted children huddled in hate,
hurling stones at the traitor.
Hauling the renegade into the throngs,
Hunnish hands assaulted him until he swooned in to the motherlands lap,
Hue and cry of the avengers brought in the tripper,
Heavy loads hugged on to his shoulders,
In poise words he spoke,
''for every creation has its flaws,
And when we batter on the withered soul,
It leaves the barren man dry again,
To ward off evil is like blowing into the forges of Vulcan,
And only when tests and temptations are burnt in the bonfires of joy,
will man be moulded into a joyous being''
Hissing whisphers from the crowd spoke,
Heresy of the tripper is the hold,
Hasten yourself and bring our brother medication,
Hunt down the snake will we,
For this vagabond has spoken in verses,
Only to be filed in the trippers travelogue.
Hushed up as the snake in the pit.
May 20, 2012
May 20, 2012 at 1:19 AM UTC
Step into my universe
You'll see only words
In my mind, flurry of feathers
Hurricane of riled up birds.
They amass and circulate
Searching to break free
Storm of ink; doesn't abate
Bleed out for no one to see.
*Hidden inside my heart
Forbidden words I long to convey
Teach me how to start
With you I foist to play.*
Words veiled by silent secrecy,
Cloaked words I long to shout
Bordering the point of heresy
Tabooed words without doubt.
Almost an eternity I've whispered
With care and only hushed tones
Well kept secret undiscovered
Laying quiet under unturned stones.
Thought myself alone when I heard another
One that sings choral to my own
A mournful call that sang together
Grey melodies embodied in skin and bone.
*The cravings of my heart
Your words I wish to fill
In my head occupies the biggest part
Our declaration's the only seal.
A vow you and I made
A love we wish to last forever
Dismissing that opportunities evade
Who would need a supporting paper.
Hidden softness within me
Only you can tap and enjoy
The only one that holds the key
Heart and mind meet to employ.*
Our hearts, like kings, would've risen
Adorned and bejewelled on their crests
Let us sing in unrehearsed unison
Crowned words we've locked in our chests.
IamMsIves
rhymesmith
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 8:21 AM UTC