Thursday, March 24, 2011

Fishermen's Alley

Inexplicably lost
But not willing to be found
Even if sanity is the cost
Until six feet under shall I be aground

A stone's throw is freedom
Enticing the soul to approach
Upon flesh this battle will be decided
Thus, failure's only option is to encroach

To the finish, to the finish!
The heart fervently chants
Although, the eyes do sometimes wonder
Of the nose's endurance against the stench of rotten fish

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