Once we were in heaven
And could dream for ever
But weather started a heat
And spat it’s pestilent receipt
Oh, it takes a whole lotta grit
To get out of that pit
Like a Blue Moon rises Desire
Over a dark Pit set on Fire
Where wood flickers way up high
Like illusions in the children’s eye
And days burn and time goes by
And I wonder whether to breath out
Or whether to die
Fool always believes to be pardon from want
Knight always asserts to be first to anoint
They say there is no right and there is no wrong
Whether the winds blows just a little or very strong
Whoever is lost in that dark valley of greed
You shall never be acquitted of your need
Created June 11,2020
Philosophical/ Dark
Author Pola Popovich
