I place my elbows on the windowsill
and try to take succour in the pouring rain
It is an effort that takes huge will
after being shattered time and again
If I spy the peep of the gods,
will they call my name?
Reminding me of the battles, evens and odds
and the tribulations of the game
I’ve had too many miscarriages of purpose
corpses in the gardens of daily discourse
The one I love is so disillusioningly host
to my own destruction’s ghost
And the one I hate is full of snares
like the devil hijacking my wares
I am a weary traveler between evil and deep
and I have always paid for my keep
But I can do battle despite the woes
Courage fills me to the edges of my toes
I have rendered watery fears to stone
Determination fills me to the bone
too good Monte
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