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A poem highly influenced by Oscar Wilde, enjoy :)

Submitted:Dec 19, 2009    Reads: 87    Comments: 3    Likes: 2   

Shameful is the breaking dawn
Bitter is the harbinger's smile
Crippled is the fear
That haunts us steadily for a while

Death is tolled twice
By the by
As the old grey stones
Roll in

Cheaper is the noose
Rope of song and spit
Than skin torn loose
By blade and grit

Long is the night
Of man in shadows
Cracking bones
Oh his moans!

Devilish be his screams
Of torture and conceit
As he sings,
Bloody throat
And coarse yellow

Blessed is the child
He calls
Wrong is he who me deprived
Cut his lips from their grin
For the harbinger's air
Is thin

Bring her blood
He calls
It belongs to me
Shaking the bones
He moans
The shadow
Of night is long

Slow to move
And slow to speak
He has haste
To show despair
His little nymph is wrought
Of gold and flower bare

Trust is not a
Friend in sight
Nor kindness
Or contrite

The rich
He calls
Have no adhere
For the shadow
That is left to die here
The men
He cries
With wives and ties
Have no heart
For sinner who strives


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