Sunday, April 3, 2016
I Must Fight For The Now
No play endows the soul quite like gaming,
No matter where you live and swear to life
The life of a gaming soul is smitten with luckiness.
There is no lord who sees a pencil and does not ignite
With laughter, does not see the page enlighten, and boldly
Derive mad sorts that madly deliver the praise.
Hell is playing with somebody right now, due
To maintenance, due to sad regret and revelry,
He laughs and sounds like exhalations rightly.
Good fights avoid the evictions of this mere life,
The Hereafter destroys you with its flair,
But the present world endows the body with a look.
Topic(s) of this poem: present