Hello again, today is Friday, December 14, 2012. Here's another poem, a sonnet, that I wrote for y'all. Enjoy.
Once I saw along the midnight open shore,
A bleak shape emerge from the beach's bank,
The one angel who did quoth dreams of yore,
A sole seraph; she who trumpets dreams frank.
Quiet warnings cried the angel softly,
And cried she did so soft that die I would,
When asked for why I die she replied thee,
Her reply shocked me so cause die I could.
She thinks my death shall start because it can,
I scream "back to your house of wretched tricks,"
Back to your hellish land from whence you ran,
Retreat your frightful shroud upon the styx.
And repeat such to your dark lord Hades,
That I'm immortal so your death feigns me.
As always,
ZenMercury
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