let us bury this
evening of discontent
beside this
wearisome road
to have, to hold
for place to plough
to toil the yield
settling thy levy
so freedom can feed
upon a bosom of yore
to banish this fever
the ravenous hoards
with vagabond players
feasting off this row
and this I pledge
should my hands
grow hardened
to touch callously
I vow to surrender
and fall upon the bow
of the blind archer
of love’s hunted
and give witness
to our fall

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