Poetry

Time knocks you
down O love. Why are you
always in my thoughts?

Death and life were
two sides of the coin, in
attendance of king.

No one was a slave.
I walk on my footpath
to reach my truth.

Is it the end of
the tale, as a prelude to
unchanging tragedy?

Irreparable was
the loss of virtue. I will never
be rich of new words.