The Ballad of No.4

Superbia travellin' apace tears one so oft
Turnin' hearts into wood and liftin' one aloft
Craven are those who fly with proud minds
For the feelin' of sadness is what their heart unwinds

Invidia carves itself as desire making one a cur
Remb'r insatiable tears the soul turin' life so blur
One must not try to be what one can't be
Cuz that hews love and life we must forsee

Ira is turnin' friends into foes
One must be fain to let go of hatred and throw away arrows
Love in arms through dusk we must yearn
Some feelin's today may never return

Avaritia creeps itself in our skin
Remove this fraught of wealth and turn anxiety thin
Money maybe its a crime to fight for more than what one deserves
At the end all one needs to do is forgo for there are no reserves

Ray Gonsalves




Poetry by Ray Gonsalves
Read 405 times
Written on 2009-04-06 at 21:30

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