Where We Fall, Where We FalterA Poem by Jonny The Savage
So this is where we fall, this is where we falter,
Marching blind, like sheep, to the sacrificial altar. Not a moment to spare, nor a reason to sing; We turn to despair as we see what you bring. And if this be it, my final moment of respite: It'll be my last breath that echoes "you will not win this fight!" And if my body I could choose, like Joe Hill to ashes it reduced, And to every corner of this sphere be taken, So that they iron resolve of my will shall never be shaken!
© 2015 Jonny The SavageAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorJonny The SavageAtlantis, Apple RockAboutAesthete, philosopher and scholar first; and a writer, poet and musician second. A rather blunt individual with no regard for dogma or taboo. A curious soul seeking the truth beyond this mortal coil. more..Writing
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