The Vies Poem by irna sofia

eina!
it's awkward,
yes it is,
in silence
of the night,
stood over the moon,
after the long deeps,
and ado.
eina!
i'm done to groan,
and sick of grones,
but i can't let myself vies,
vies for life.
as my eies can't carry more,
and my tears won't dropp more,
as i struggle for moneth,
the moneth of vies.
yes.
i am a vann.
stood weakly in front of the battle line,
battle for myself
the only sword that i have,
it only a vial of physick,
but i know,
all of these vies,
have all the reason,
reason for one.