XII.
Releases' burden is not the fairest,
Nor even is what small light comes hither
Enough to choke what pain I now bare'st.
As spirits go, I feel it now wither,
As each day plods on, granting no release,
My thoughts wander in unrestrained wonder.
Unbound, the words confer no time of peace,
Cluttering mind and ripping asunder
What drives would appeal to me long ago.
Still, each day goes by temptation's desire
Grown stronger, and weakened resolve, yet 'lo,
Each step down grants what muses do inspire.
The time has come for death's breath to take
What war could not simply win, his namesake.
© George Galang February, 2001
Nor even is what small light comes hither
Enough to choke what pain I now bare'st.
As spirits go, I feel it now wither,
As each day plods on, granting no release,
My thoughts wander in unrestrained wonder.
Unbound, the words confer no time of peace,
Cluttering mind and ripping asunder
What drives would appeal to me long ago.
Still, each day goes by temptation's desire
Grown stronger, and weakened resolve, yet 'lo,
Each step down grants what muses do inspire.
The time has come for death's breath to take
What war could not simply win, his namesake.
© George Galang February, 2001