Monday, September 14, 2015

AM BACK...

 


AM BACK
Paddle for cleaning a blow.
My voice is my sword.
The sword that spruce to plow.
May be young ,
but swords i smile,says my word.
the song i sung.
My words i smile,weapons laugh to scorn
my will to bruit,
brandished by man that's of a woman born.
I beg to spit.
Why should i play the Cassius fool?
the gashes to live,
as they do better upon the pool,
should i leave?
I bear a charmed life,which must not yield,
to one of a woman born,
that struggle life,that rise to shield,
that lie to be torn,
and trumpet speak;give them all breath,
hence endure your wrath.
Clamorous harbingers speak;of blood and death,
the return of my worthy,
the rouse and stir of;my dismal treatise of tots,
supped full with horrors
Direnes,familiar to my slaughterous thoughts
Battle won no more sorrors.
©GKatolo 2015 .....@Thank you

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