Different moods of different poems.
i hunger For my youth. For those lazy, Hazy, crazy, Sperm-filled days. When my eyes Feasted with devilment, Instead of mockery, Upon the young School of nymphs That swam up
A coin tossed By father and son. The father lost, The son, won Father approached His wife so dear, His eyes brimming With saddened tears. And on the bed, His love did lay.
Descends Surely, swiftly, Bringing death. No trial by law, Just obliteration.
Now hear the silence, As it fills the hall. My name, is whispered, T’is me they call.
From this wild deranged beast I saw the long strap Being raised in the air My arm yanked forward