Irony


Ah! Cold as frozen Hell, imagine Life
In Green pastures, brooks flow
Into ravines of light and shadow
Where the sheep take rest.

You, someone, know Iím here
You take your pleasure in my despair
Well, rejoice, for I despair.
But why is it so?

Ah! Weary, cold as hell
As claws were bared
The fangs of night stretched forth
In exaltation, to touch
The moon.

I donít know, but I care
I dare say life is short
But weary, dull
But full
And Golden as the Sun.




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