Worrior

(By Gub, the 1st of May, 2015)

Through the years that age devours
Boredom flowers
You alternate bait
With bruise

The cause is less about the wait
Than concentric rhyme, confused

When a single want is fulfilled
I become the wanton ache Of all your desires; refused.

A challenge, a fuss, an infinite harangue
Of ‘was it ever thus’

The tantrum
Child in you
Wails

Implacable
Billowing heaps
Of mopes and sulk filled Cheeks

Streaked with rage Strutting and fomenting Battled brow
War torn
Face

I know this warrior well I have faced
His axe
His mace

There is no refuge from
His storm; once unleashed
Brings rain
The sighing drops
Of sinking silver
That streak
Down
Down

From purple
Clouds

A bellicose wind
That blows in
(And out )

An origination
That forgets
Itself

No sooner
Started
Than
Expired

And another
Day is gone