Fragments 4



Another set of unconnected micro poems


Each drop that flows
from the sinful eye,
for deeds to atone ~
for mercy the cry.

The sweet little tears,
from sinful eye.


Don't leave my love;
For I want you to be
the last that I'll see,

~ before the angel of death
comes to take me.


My lady:
it's only you that does excite
such exquisite delight ~
setting my soul ablaze,
with passion raging all night.


...lingering thoughts that disturb -
we find;
are odd little whispers,
to unsettle our nights.

Where can we turn?
Where can we find -
solace, calm ~
and presence of mind...?


Adjacent to honey,
lies a sea of dirty money,
from usury, blood and gore.

Avarice here mocks, it sneers and laughs ~
and condemns us all to be poor.



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