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.

 

 

 

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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.