A simple thing to fallow emotions heart,
and lay to ruin fruits cloistered apart.
A trivial matter to wreak havoc seed.
To wallow in might of passions need
and rend from heart those secret deeds.
Thus beauty once fair is gone.
And kept in love a darkest plight,
forever chained to lovers spite.
For in the day shall thy make,
what tomorrows dawn will it take.
All thy words the soul has spoke
will fall in sleep to never woke.
Stay thy passion and sleep the night.
For in morn sun shall shine
And clear away thy passions crime.
I really don’t know. This started as the opening sentence to another essay regarding corporate slavery. It turned into this.