Well, I know many have been waiting for the next exposé. Sorry to disappoint but I'm going to have to halt that. Allow me to compensate for that. I realised that the Forbidden Files is not my only column, so I still have to write about other things. Besides, too many exposés will make it boring. Rest assured that the next one will be of high impact, as all my exposés are aspired to be.
I cannot promise a date for the next one, but I can say that I'm postponing the scandal to put the Adam Khoo analysis first. Hope that's good news. Meanwhile, I'm trying to find inspiration for a good story, so help me out here. I have crafted a small handiwork for your content momentarily, so enjoy!
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Seraphim Anthology #04 - Round the Clockwork
A poem by Seraphim
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[By: Seraphim]
Want freedom from this chroniker cage
To find liberation to become the sage
Tree of life the mortals endure
For the sake of living they cannot cure
Five fingers they slowly count till night
Sick of going through the everlasting fight
Seven days straight they loaded their brain
Ate no rewards drank sorrow and pain
Nine tails of wisdom they try to achieve
Tan have their skins yet more sun to grief
[By: PseudoMan / Tarzan]
Has the sun blinded their eyes?
Or is it the moon that's glazed their sight?
For the escape that they so seek
Lies not at the end of the rhythmic tick
Will they not see the trap they've made?
The orb of twelve that counts their fate
Running away from unseen hands
Will their rush lead to good ends?
The monotony of worldly beat
T'would only be silenced by ended greed
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EDITOR'S NOTE: Thanks to PseudoMan / Tarzan for contributing that last stanza. It seemed to continue mine perfectly, so I hope you don't mind me posting them together. I've credited you up there though.
4 comments:
Has the sun blinded their eyes?
Or is it the moon that's glazed their sight?
For the escape that they so seek
Lies not at the end of the rhythmic tick
Will they not see the trap they've made?
The orb of twelve that counts their fate
Running away from unseen hands
Will their rush lead to good ends?
The monotony of worldly beat
T'would only be silenced by ended greed
This is definitely a poem about you, winkie. The last line gives it all away.
ur welcome to add it to the post. and thanks for crediting me and all...very nice poetry...i like the way you used the numbers one to ten in the entire poetry
very very nice poem
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