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.

Monday, March 21, 2011

The Ides of March Arrive

The entrails of Prometheus old
Are consumed even as he's alive
My entrails they likewise grow cold
As the ides of March arrive
The path of the old and the path of the new
Will from the very same source derive
Hark ye! These paths decided they will be
As the ides of March arrive
The trade of formal dope is due
To meet deadlines I strive
Alas I face such deadlines three
As the ides of March arrive
I set my house in order true
In an attempt to my spirit drive
Thank God! Some order I can see
As the ides of March arrive
The ides of March they came and went
As they come and go each year
But the ides of March make evident
Our guts in the face of fear
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