PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Where ignorance is bliss at best

I've learned myself to death...



And if your eyes could see with truest power

Would you not know how the strong devours weaklings

In attempts to buy his soul some time from sinking?

For, the tyrant is a coward

And to shadows he does stay for every hour.

Running from the fact he needs his peasants

To survive at all.

Or else he showers leverage over zero flowers

And soon scours all his laws amidst an empty plain

In hopes that it will rain someday.



And when you pale to surest death,

You'll be laid down to rest now from your Book of Breath.

And soon your soul is snatched right from your very grave

And taken into clouds against your will to stay.

Now just but a body-stranger

Wondering who took your essence when you couldn't look.

Would you dare the toughest danger

To find out your angel was a crook?



And if you could taste past the sweet of candy kisses

To the basest meat,

Would you admit then, Love is but a sheet

Thrown over dirty mattress heaps?



And if you can't see all these revelations manifest,

Then welcome, Sir, to Happiness.