A Grand Morning Faked My Evening
Copyright 2009

Like a great rainfall, I fall a great fall
Treasured sweat running in trenches unvalued
Ears stand out for sympathy, eyes searching for sliced light.
As the fragile, remnant self bend over in awful loneliness,
The invisible putrefying sores lowers life down.

Imprimatur implants implausible vendetta,
Jading mind, harassing soul and prostrate self in grief.
All appraisals razed and perimeter wall of confidants crushed
Screaming above noise is seen as faint murmur below a whisper and
Foes who plotted in vain now plot in veins.

Can heaven and hell book ne in at ago?
What a misery to own a full head with an empty heart
Now trodden! what tone will be my epitaph?
If relent visited early, the radiant decorated elected collar
would neither dim nor pale
let the beginner of my begging end my end.

By Henry Samuel Mello
Email Henry Mello

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