Tuesday, January 6, 2015

Fickle

Like a rock thrown forth
Rage soars through the skies
Of wind sailing north
It is me, the one who cries

You pull me to despair, Sunstarer
You pull me down, not any fairer
You erase my smile,
Your smirk I revile.

Our moods oft swing
Our sadness oft sing
What happens then
when the Sun and Fool clash?

Woe to the lovers
With arguments in balderdash
The Fool loves you, yes
The Fool reviles catching the stress

Thus 'tis the job of a lover
And lovers we are,
Lovers we be

As lovers we try
To avoid each other's melancholy

This is not the end
For our love so persists
Hurdle is our fickle emotion
But none affect our love devotion