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The pit and the pendulum

You Must Think Us Immortal part 2: Do Vampires Love?

Stagnant

No Interest in us

More than Just the Monarchy



You must think me immortal

The Unelected

THE DAY THEY CAME

Rusted Blades in Everglades

a sentinel no more

St Pauli

Without me

Return of The King

21

social Distancing

I Pine For You

The Sea Of Evian

Stinging nettles

When i Liked Girls

Orcs and Trolls

No cure for sadness

43

Amsterdam

Game Over

Wilko

Lip Service

Life's Circus

fingerprints upon your skin

0

~~Bartram's Friday 13th insurance ~~

Crossing the borders of innocence

Darkest corners within a circle

More Poetry >>

moral fibre



The wind blows in all directions
Dictating the elements functions
Truth, Love, honour and obey
The real seasons that governs our day
The puppets amongst us just see what's out on display
As the leaders amongst us, realize all morals are clay
And just like our thoughts they break so easily
And appear again just to tease me
Yet it is so hard to say the right things
As each moral season, a difference it brings
And each season that passes, we forget what was said
Leaving unsolved answers in our head
And you feel the wind blowing hard in your face
And another moral fibre you so badly taste
And just as you feel that you are someone
Another moral fibre is so highly strung





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moral fibre


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