WORDS FOR PLAY: Too Late, Too Cruel

Thursday, December 29, 2005

Too Late, Too Cruel

I pan for gold And lose my head; Like a poor lost soul I am misled. The day goes by, The night comes on, A wild wolf’s cry Haunts my dawn. I wake with sweat Upon my face. I lost the bet I am disgraced. Too late the heat Of noon arose. Too cruel the beat Of my heart’s woes That on the wreath Of dull... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Ebb.and.Flow at 9:54 PM | add or view comments (0) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry
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add verse rehearsal to figure the sum of a divided soul

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