I complain about god like an angelic spirit,
During the rapid strikes of your destiny.
Opals and rubies combine in their memories
To unleash the ordinary rights and wrongs.
My letter is a complaint of formalities,
My lesson is the order of a sacred king.
To see godly men is like watching the parade,
My thumbs crack, they wither like the trolls
In decline due to the good forces of the light.
Evil is at the heart of the rooms in innocence;
Friday, April 22, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: man