Wednesday, 21 September 2016

And yet

This world is not for us to win
And yet our stories beg to begin

Alas we hang not neatly on weeping walls 
Nor stay silent at Mountain dew falls 

Envy, ego, ecstasy churn alike in the basket of tin
And drench our souls in the neatness of sin

I know as well as you do that somewhere within
This world surely, is not for us to win

And yet

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