Tuesday, 25 March 2008

Dear Adversary

I wrote you a note, while listen to Tchaikovsky
While Nyx was in deep thought,
Through her exhausted drag.
Poised with wings, I kept the song unsung.
To tell, you are always on the list;
It would make you so proud –
"But who is Victor?" –I yelled at Latona.
All I have left to do, is to worship you,
bellowing down to earth–
Seeping your nectar.
Poised with wing, I hold your song unsung.

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