to stuff her embankment
her happiness depends upon his dent
her depletion is his deposit
to deprive her gasp
he retires
she fades away
she is mad
to deprive the depths of the heart
the fate of the happiness is real
to establish the madness is doom
risk
empty
be full of soul
nothing for nothing
to test the tension of his financial disaster
flog
to wage war
flog the man
to prevent the mask from freakish endeavour
to ride the distant sorrow
to weep another day
until you find him
never sin
only searching for another
loneliness
solitude never known
when found
he eradicates the gentle loss
to ponder the years until he finally relents
giving in to the sin you crave
thank him gentle soul
reap what you sow
he will win the day
About the Creator
MaxwellJBanks
I am but a struggling poet with much to say, and an outlet that will make your day.
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