The Game Of The Beasts Poem by King Face
The Game Of The Beasts
Deep thirst, breathing dust
Play or be dead, from the past
No opposition, if there! then its the last
Fear to the brim, trembling like sails hold by weak mast
Only hope dead, just regret
Sweet promises, no commitment
Swallow the truth, and stay obedient
The game of hide and seek, so sweet
When bedbugs, are basked out! !
The past becomes dead. Breaking sweet promise provoke thought. Amazing perceptional political poem is brilliantly penned...10
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5/3/2024 5:49:27 AM # 1.0.0.1119
A refined poetic imagination, King Face. You may like to read my poem, Love And Iust. Thank you.