The Muse

There exists a universe where I'm known as Lima. You aren't allowed there.
There exists another universe in which Lima walks. You are already here.
You have entered because you can appreciate style while ignoring content. You had been warned.
P.S. Don't bash me up if you find haiku or plain prose here.

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Me, in verse

What I do, wherefore and why,
I know not and the days go by,
Here that I am, whence did I come,
Where will I go, these are just some,
Queries that I have, and forsooth,
I won't flinch in the face of the truth.

When it's play, it's just that, a game,
But done for a living, it's not the same,
By the time I knew, my days were spent,
Upon my resolve, I had to repent,
Disgraced by the Monarch, and out of spite,
I left Sangraal for the Jesuits' light.

My hand, my pride, the place I reside,
I am within and beauty outside,
What I see, I get the same,
If I lose it, I am to blame,
Strange bedfellows, my mind and me,
An empty manger, not a place to be.