to walk old ways alone.
immortal one
through seasons of desire
what fire this
that dares one touch of hells own disbelief?
no light of sun dare comprehend such truth.
have surrendered many years
sought refuge in a subjagated mind.
with gold as pure as beggars naked hands
who dared to count all seven seas
of they who came and went with voices still.
I have mourned each year
the passing of our Spring,
walked tall with our Azaleas
on grasses green as envy
on this earths revolving lot.
have swept aside all miracles
of loves forget-me-not\'s
with sonnets withered hands of deaths delight
to walk old ways alone.
immortal one
through seasons of desire
let Spring no more be dammed this broken man;