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Saturday, February 03, 2007

Mire

Another coup
A little land
A mighty loss
For those grains of sand

A wretched sleep
And evil dreams
Ambitious threats
A sore history

Treason bare
Fight succumbs
Feeding on life’s
Wicked crumbs

Hopes moribund
Or maybe bleeds
Or waiting to
get some reprieve

And slipping down
Some may live
A story to tell
Or a hollow dip

A somber grave
Or another wave
The rise may see
Or may see no day


This mire will last
Maybe not so
The last morsel
Of every such woe

Leaving bright
What will stay
All left outside
A better day