Essence of Thought 2019-023

 

Begone, begone ye cursed thoughts,

Take off and flee to a different day.

Let my mind be at rest for a fleeting moment,

To regroup for a haggard stay.

Interest wanes for continued love,

In dismay, my mind wanders still.

 

Perish the Devil for allowing this,

A wicked way of fortunate bliss.

A rusty pinnacle of frozen tableau,

Given in time for decrepit spray.

Alas, the heart beat continues still,

Allowing a millennium of joy.

 

Where is the harbinger of celestial upheaval?

To judge those left behind.

Thoughts remain to drip to oblivion,

Finally peace reigns in my time.

 

 

Peace,

Den Betts        bettsden@gmail.com   Email

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