Later than expected

I nursed the homeward journey to my taste.

I was quite early but as ever later than I’d like.

I wish’d the time to be manipulated but maybe now I have a reason,

but given none, I ‘d be mistaken to think it better.

I’d saddle side the trojan deity,

the flagrant half of my depravity:

secrets laid, a secret’s bared upon the soils of Spring time’s sowing.

I want an evening only dreaming,

the morning’s set a path for me.

I had a notion of my journey once before.

Upon the way to where it is I go

I feel the trembling, the loss of everything.

I miss the way it was when the oath (or path) was empty.



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