The Ravages, Rigors Poem by delilah contrapunctal.... yes, that's how I intended to spell it.........

The Ravages, Rigors



of amoral decay
beset the populace of Pranque du Soleil...
they've clapped on their manacles, covered them well...
seems someone'd suggested they could avoid, quell,
at least some of the perils of being...do tell
me, if I'm wrong, and this is but a rumor....
then....
why do the most of them,
slink, in ill-humor, on the beaches and strands,
wary-eyed, with their hands
in their pockets of lint...and no longer sprint
to the trumpets of joy and lyrical sounds...why they squat on their haunches, mumbling, 'out of bounds'
where are the liberal dosings of ruth...and why, tell me why, do so few speak of truth as a gamboling, ambling searching...
forsooth......
...the waves no more lap and the fare's gone to pap.....

do look for the meaning of the word 'amoral'.....to me, in this case,
(we'll not have to quarrel) is that unstrictured 'being''
to play, ideate, with a heart lacking hate.......

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