Gord

2015-11-19 12:00 am

Is this love, Alexander?
Promptly Cleopatra answers,
Dancers kicks, and spins,
Treat the story like a stage,
Improperly tuned for appraisal.
Alas I spend my days,
Fighting weary foes in cages.
My half heart being only paper,
Protected death in glass case.
Lament for my love continued,
Contained in a brass vase.