Thoughts that Rhyme

I shine brighter than the girl on fire

Although this was not always so,

Years pass and I look back to life as a squire,

An innoncent infant trapped in the mind of beautiful mischief,

Painting pictures of wicked things - equipped with halos and angel wings,

And ‘truth is words do sting more severly than salt in open wounds

Ungodly moods that set aflame all we know and burn.

“From dust I am to dust I shall return.”

I tell you once more that language is sharper than a sword,

And if my hands may bleed,

Ignore the agony,

Drink mead,

And parade through the depths of the night.