Dreams Poem by Daegonius Bonapartea

Dreams



Tis love my only bethrottle of innocence
whilst its shadow runs over me subtley
i thought the moon could deliver me penitentence
but this pen, and this ink still asunder under me roughly
i thought that the blade of fate had decapitated me senselessly
but this world has chosen me lovingly
and now the carriage of my heart flies me to heights of bliss.

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