Glistening Fables Poem by Dead Beat Poet

Dividing death with every last breath,
running in circles and climbing the line.
You will find no short cuts here,
it's the hard way every time.

Count your blessings to yourself,
there's nobody else to listen.
We will multiply and divide all your fears,
fill a lake full of tears and then make it glisten.

We all sometimes dominate here,
up is the direction we round.
There's not a common denominator,
begin with sin and from that expound.

Gold and silver are worthless here and there is never a fare,
everything is real and there are no labels.
You are ready now but only if you dare,
behind the Black Door are your own private fables.