In the night, in the night, there are bats flying around.
Eating flies, eating fruits, singing in ultra high pitched sound.
They were once dirty rats, crawling despicably on the ground,
Long before long before their wings were to be found.
(sneak.)
Thursday, 19 July 2007
Monday, 9 July 2007
Untitled
The Green Fairy came to me one day
And asked me where did Shakespeare go to.
Unfazed by her intricate beauty,
I knew, by drawing implications,
That it was a catch-22-kind-of-riddle.
If I had answered her wrongly,
She would deliver a fatal bite,
From which a lethal poison would flow
And go to my heart and make it bleed.
I will eventually die.
If I had answered her honestly,
She would deliver a kiss,
From which a lethal poison would leak
From my lips to my heart and make it stop.
I will immediately die.
So, I kept quiet
And that is how I live to tell the tale.
She sits on the pulse on my wrist
Awaiting my answer.
And asked me where did Shakespeare go to.
Unfazed by her intricate beauty,
I knew, by drawing implications,
That it was a catch-22-kind-of-riddle.
If I had answered her wrongly,
She would deliver a fatal bite,
From which a lethal poison would flow
And go to my heart and make it bleed.
I will eventually die.
If I had answered her honestly,
She would deliver a kiss,
From which a lethal poison would leak
From my lips to my heart and make it stop.
I will immediately die.
So, I kept quiet
And that is how I live to tell the tale.
She sits on the pulse on my wrist
Awaiting my answer.
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