11/23/2011 § Leave a comment
I choose the blues, I selected the tools. I’m the tester of the jester. I guessed wrong and got bested ; I truly did admire his moves.
I sit here in aw and gazing, I stood there defining ; My thoughts were that I could beat the rules.
I would have retreated faster, if I had known I defied the utmost scholar; I thought I’d prosper but failed.
I select the rules, I chose the lows. I hurried to master the disaster. I built misery up to the high hilt; I turnabout to sever my very own nose.
I stand here trapped and broken, I sat there smugly brazen; My antagonist did rule that battlefield.
I might have stepped out, if I had only known my foolish route, I now wear those thick scars within.