Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Trusting Harlots (the fourth in a cycle)

I once was a strong man of valor
I put all my rivals to flight
I turned my foes’ faces to pallor
I haunted their dreams in the night

I knew my strength’s source was above
But my thoughts spent little time there
I denied all the power thereof
And then let a whore cut my hair

Now I can’t see where I’m going
I’m fed on stale, moldy crust
I ache from the weight I am towing
Of giving a harlot my trust

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