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.
Den Betts email@example.com Email