AWOL

Gnash, gnash it's him again
Harsh, rash my thoughts shall be,
when his shadow I behold,
wintry nights leave me cold,
putrid rites make me old,
but i hate him more than these,
for my mind is absent without leave.




He merits not this malicious railery,
for by him you gained your bravery,
but against this stead,
askance will i look,for this is not my watch.