Mine Writings Useless As a Rotten House

By
Alas! There is but nowhere I have not gone,
Still I return to her, at home I hide
And there is no place like mine anon

Thou hath seenest pon Drag'n defend her ilk
De, fishes pursue liberty ponder?
And Caroline’s shine like newly poured milk,
Quiet Tennessee grasses asunder?

Oh lord, of change I am incapable
Mine writings useless as a rotten house
I hath felt the four riders palpable
Of mine and me, our flames be doused

Methinks liketh pon only mountain stream,
And the pouth with thine panting dogged team
Thou hath heard the thunder
Now is the time to not glance aside

Oh lord, of change I am incapable
Mine writings useless as a rotten house
I hath felt the four riders palpable
Of mine and me, our flames be doused

I always show'st mine self
Keep true, render to thee

Oh lord, of change I am incapable
Mine writings useless as a rotten house
I hath felt the four riders palpable
Of mine and me, our flames be doused





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Eric Karian said...
Feb. 27, 2009 at 10:08 pm
this is a great piece of older writing poetry
 
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