Debts

Weak, weary from life long Luggage, that
which grasps to its host in journey across river
banks , water creation by moon melody arcs above,
never touching her mind, which had ascended
long, long ago, how language fails-

To change her values, with the orange furs,
And the juices used to exhaust bad dreams,
How she has sealed her own gate of fate,
How she bares these awful burdens alone,
This is the charge given by self endowed
selfishness .

her slippery voyage will endure, as the snow
falls, to insure her winter season leaves an inspiring
damage effect on the slate of her soul.
She will call for death and he will surely answer,
With a stern face and that cold cold blade.

© 2008 Chester Stoney III