13th January 2010

Dearest, you’re an idiot,
A fool in thine eyes:
For thee, must you be so ire for something that remains
A small fraction, ever so small, of impossibility;
Ah, foe, the yonder of thine eye
Sees all, transparent and true.
I will not cease to boil,
The tables thy rage has turned,
O! For rage bestowed upon me be only transformed into a devil’s rage,
O fair one, the clouds become darker.
Thou dost not perchance the lovers together,
For eery selfishness spoils thy broth;
Raindrops pitter,
Patter,
Hast thou understood the beings of such superiority -
Need all be inspiration.
How now, my unfair lord,
The answers you seek dost not skip past eyes of mine,
I bear the truth.
Thine king, thine O lord, shall bear the crown and words of Prince Hamlet,
Continue to reap rewards from talent and pure grace,
Hast without thee.
Without thee, o ungracious one,
Of tomfoolery.