Thursday, February 13, 2014


Am I to be moved
by such violent disaffect?
      Or am I to be soothed?
To which way do I sway?
      Do I leave, do I stay?
Incendiary, you rule 
       This ready fool
Your tyranny, my constancy 
        While I stand in waiting
In this pyre, burning
        Still you, far-removed
 Ever-still, stood perfect.

No comments:

Post a Comment