Manacle Smiles
Frantic for freedom, hot echoes harpoon
From the reign of revolt to the cold,
Now the puppets of kings reattach shackle strings
For a contract of glittering gold.
The Bazaar
Nobody but naivety listens
To pleading notes of the mute,
A coin is spent in the beggars tin
As gratitude feathers the flute.
His playful notes of love speak truth
But notes of truth hide lies,
And buried in this lying tune
Are notes of his demise.
The music stops. Nobody sees
The beggar become the dead,
For no artist makes a profit
From painting the landscape red.
T. Grayson
Please click here for the illustrated Manacle Smiles by Kieron Edwards.
Please click here for The [illustrated] Bazaar by Kieron Edwards.