And where are you off to
you little mite, busy so so?
To gather as you go through
borrowing to hide down low?

This wind that carry you
draws a ring as you sing.
For one that reigns so true
you live shorter than you bring.

Your bite is so you can live
like all who prey on fatality.
How true it is, in all who live,
That death is but a formality.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s