It held me and captivated me as long as an hour,
I am the captive of you now, offering peace;
But you have not struggled as much as me,
My dying encases the life of yours, brimmed with safety.
My living nightmare has come true,
Open the doors to mercy, as I do beg.
My living dream of mercy has arrived,
The inner work of the devil is about.
The books have us in the binding,
Powerful pages resound in the waters;
A clever trick is employed by the wise,
Ghosts of strength dabble with the mind.
A sound uttered by the same sonnet is unique,
You bellow in the extreme, unlike my sonnet;
The laughter attached is liking me and you,
But my poetry has love behind it, behind it.
Very grand was the bridge I crossed,
Forward I marched in the steps of my father;
The world knew a little heaven and hell,
But the lesser crimes were to be committed.
The side to suicide was grim as pies of ice,
Calculating the moment would be torture;
The effects of the insanity were stronger than most,
Another feeling was attached like the meaning of piety.
An oath has been pledged from the heart,
His task was certainly one of steel and iron;
Hard and brittle tasks require difference,
My oath shall proclaim this to the very fibre.
You insist on some occupations to grasp,
Yet lying has happened for some time.
The understanding is full, fulfilling us,
As men who bear the pains insist on us.
May we lick the wounds of liars
To qualm their furious outpour;
Pouring from their veins are words
Too strong, too fast and talkative.