What is hate? what fate? to hate? What blame? Just shame? All complain. All we try. Paranoid.
Cut the fade down. Take it’s place. Mostly me mostly you. Said my faceless Soul to love:
Oh, charming guise and beauty fair,
Deceive the eye, but leave no care,
For in a woman, fear of Lord,
Is what is truly to be adored.
Her heart so pure, her soul so bright,
Shining through with a radiant light,
With grace and virtue, she shall reign,
And praise from all shall she attain.
:: 03.29.2023 ::
E.P. Robles | Poetry 