Oh, burdened are the excess of humanities woes
from corner to corner,
foolish cries are caught
their expectations inject most fervently
though otherwise argued facts not prudent to the cause
withheld is my discretion,
away from all the world
never again to believe a word from lying lips that preach too much
from now until eternity,
weary are actions of this cautious mind
I am the fool
Have I lost myself?
A notable question I’m sure for amelioration is inconceivable
Too curious is a mind that covets without contrition
Perhaps too many desideration’s?
They are more like unshakable ghosts eager to haunt
To save me is to kill me, as fate just contradicts archaic modes
Integrity is in the guise of swift imagination’s making fools for fun
Where am I?
Dissipated behind the curtain, too aware of the eyes of death which is at length
I have lost myself
Shell de Toni 