The darning bell
Tarnished with rust,
Let out it’s last
Futile cry
In the face of envy.
That evil glare he
Knew,
Too well.
Yet he still whistled his
Tune,
In his own
Bitter-sweet harmony.
The darning bell
Tarnished with rust,
Let out it’s last
Futile cry
In the face of envy.
That evil glare he
Knew,
Too well.
Yet he still whistled his
Tune,
In his own
Bitter-sweet harmony.
Wax Poetic 