Wednesday, January 29, 2014

A murderer's epitaph

These waters run with blood,
The stones be stained red!
What was killed stays dead!
Trust was but small coin,
Love but that small stead,
What was done is but a long rope,
For trust to live, love sustain.
A murderer needs a grave,
Little does he expect salve,
For the forlorn hopes of salvation,
He but pens his epitaph!

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