An army of men

An army of men I got,

it all came unsought,

not had by many that bought,

why crave army of women tart?

not sexual though I a pervert,

but to satiate childhood introvert,

that fought to become this extrovert,

though shattered my fort;

an army to make,

and not break,

who better than girls that don’t fake,

an army of girls I’ll leave in my wake;

an army to defeat hell’s wrath,

to make heaven of this earth.





Parched lips

Parched lips seek ambrosia,
not suffice the earthly water,
ungratified seek euthanasia,
such force of habit, no shorter;

the nectar carried places ethereal,
high heavens and bittersweet hell,
moulded in a way that seemed real,
why stop journey where all is well;

hanging blissfully awake near sleep,
body and soul torn from grief to relief,
lost forever in a magical kingdom deep,
why leave now and turn what new leaf;

he who prefer life salted not sweet,
let him wet lips till he white as sheet.