The Spurned


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I do so much,
So I crave quite as much.
Sadly, I get so little,
Time passes and leaves me so brittle.

This isn’t fair,
Life without its true pair.
I feel lost and so alone,
I could get no wearier in the bone.

No peace, my sleep has brought,
My dreams are cold and violence wrought.
The source of my peace and joy,
Time has come to destroy.

All that is Gold is rusted…

Dismay has left me lazy,
As I cry out along the banks of the river Zambezi.
The harsh Sun overhead, laughs and gloats,
The Moon, she conceals my pain but still I’m smote.

By the rivers of Babylon…

Mine is a sad tale of despair,
A spirit scorned and broken beyond repair.
I’ll tell you of a near success,
Which time let me no access.

Nature remains a bitch with a mean quota,
My bleeding heart gasps through the aorta.
I work as hard as I crave,
I should get more than the peace of a cold grave.



  1. I haven’t seen the point, but just lamenting, of empty yield serious struggle. I no destine could have a hold to some of this. Just keep pressing for such are the way of life.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. “Nature remains a bitch with a mean quota…”

    Kane, I guess that’s what you go by now, I have not heard from you in years and still the works of you messed up mind still mess with my mind.

    There is a lot of wisdom in your words man.

    More fire to your quills.

    Liked by 1 person

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