Light Bends
Light bends
Ties itself into bows
Starts ends
Wherever that is
Nothing any one knows
Only words to be said
Language a tool made of misuse
Horrible beauties inclined
May misread dead or alive
Time to deceive chained in the night
What to believe maimed by cold light
A card has been declined
Or what is there to give
All of these souls undermined
By ancient lies of new abuse,
Whatever that is
Starts ends
Ties itself into bows
Nothing any one knows
Light bends
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
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Written on 2024-04-11 at 13:28
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