B E ferguson
he was given everything he needed to survive.
he did not know how to use them.
here he sits now, tinkering with words,
but he knows not how they were formed,
nor how they are put together. more »
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Refurbishment Of A Weary One
of sorrow i had sung through tunes of bleak,
nostalgia in my heart of autumn's weeping.
why cruel winter have you done what i
feared in dark alone to me would befall?
oh cruel and evil aged man who blows
his frost upon the land, what pleasure do you
take from this? what answers do you crave?
from me do take them that i may sleep peacefully.
but maiden cool in spring thereof, you came.
your peace and comfort ever to retain,
the gladness i once knew was mine again
and was i wholly fresh renewed for gain,
cast in iron was my sentence given