standing darkly in the corner,
a figure wrapped and cloaked,
his face turned toward the shadows,
twas not as he had hoped.
no more to see the lighted aisles,
of chambers filled with yore,
no more the soaring orator,
seen pacing on the floor.
fate had caught him finally,
and crushed him in it's vise,
his sins had caused a chilled effect,
an electorate turned wise.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment