A Queen without land, whose feet is above heaven and life without is direA Poem by Ritz
For those who have submitted review requests, I apologize. It has been a very busy month for me, I will get right to it.
O’ Lady speak
O’ lady of my heart
If it was up to me
I would make you Queen
To be in part
And know that
The anger of the brave vengeful is filled with fury
and the guide to greatness is on its peak
...Hasty I was in a spring to decadence
Till love felt like poverty, when
Laughters’ assassin came to me
with words of none
She peered from my memories
of restraint and resolve
The awkward silence before speech
The mathematicians of song
...Oh, they formulated life as an integer and a variable where death is irrational and empathy is Phi
The constants are changing with respect to the changing nature of change while equations are fluctuating with tears as their mean
Tormented by memories of old soon as laughters’ assassin strummed her saddening string with a whimsical grin and whispered:
© 2012 Ritz
Added on April 23, 2012
Last Updated on April 23, 2012
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