Daegal Poems

Half the world lives,
Half the world makes,
Half the world gives
While the other half takes.
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There’s a strange tree which lives near me,
And this strange tree could not agree,
That if this tree could ever see,
A stranger tree it sure would be.
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Hello, you, who looks like me,
Will you tell me what you see?
Answer, please, my spoken plea,
I wish to see my mind’s debris.
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O’ wicked witch, a secret death,
Your local gypsy legend reeks,
Curse us all in rotten breath,
The light of the world coming down.
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Dead. The Winter silence amplified by
Muted objections from the misty ghosts
Which prowled the murky streets like a cheerless
Ariel. Stark murmurs of a twisting
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The carrousel seahorses' picturesque circus dress
Flows behind in a wave.
The pantomime symphony echoes a mocking song,
Which winds all the hours away.
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At dewy morn’, there hangs a crystalline
Intricacy, casually tempting
Harmless flies into its morbid, frosty,
Inescapable grasp. Devoured half-
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I - am too meagre to bear a flag.

A - lthough I’ve whispered dreams to others,
M - ust I endure their selfless fruition?
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They ran through the flowers, they say,
They played all the hours away,
They sang all the time of the day,
They picked at the Summer’s display.
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Have you ever seen a giraffe drink?
If not, pause, stop to think,
It spreads its feet,
With eyes discrete,
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