Trace circles on your fingertips,
Trace your soul onto my eyes,
Lets run through the fields my darling to find,
Some things to die and strive for,
“Love, dignity, loyalty, freedom”,
A haven for poets and wonderers and dreamers,
An idyll to which you set sail,
Marred by treachery that,
Threatened to sink the good ship Albion,
All brass buttons and pistols polished,
(And flick knives sharpened),
For the battle that loomed,
Through you withdrew,
Not to save yourself,
But to save the ‘enemy’,
That lives inside of you?















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"We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars"
- Oscar Wilde
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