I confess. I am under duress but I confess my need of you please be true I will to you. My one defense to be free rescue me from the deep raging sea I need you not to fall along the way being stuck in miry clay to cause my delay out of sinking sand to dry solid land. I need you.
Tag: death is the dishonour
Death is the Dishonour
Death is Dishonour To lay down and let things fall - or fail is my nemesis stopping seems easier than anything. To struggle seems a constant there is very little room for clemency. If I were to stop who would it hurt? Who would be any the wiser? If I were to sit unmoving surely it would be good the fat lady could finally sing? Would it be so bad to let things die away? All I know All I can think of is the dishonour of letting go.
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