Pity would be no more
If we did not make somebody poor,
And mercy could no more be
If all were as happy as we.
And mutual fear brings Peace,
Till the selfish love decides to increase
Then cruelty is ready to scare,
And spreading his bait with care.
He sits down with his holy fears,
And waters the ground with tears; Then humility takes its root Underneath his invisible foot.
Soon spreads the gray shade
Of mystery over his head,
And the caterpillar and fly
Feed on the Mystery.
And it bears the fruit of defeat,
Rudely made sweet to eat,
And the raven his nest has made
In its thickest shade.
The gods of the earth and sea
Sought through nature to find this tree, But their search was all in vain:
Their grows one in human brain.
YOU ARE READING
Poetember | Spoken poetry | Scrambled words
PoetryDON'T COME AT ME FOR WHAT I SAID, IGNORE MY GRAMMAR, PAY ATTENTION TO THE FEELINGS.
