A fool perhaps, that stares into the sun
Blindly disguising foresights intention
To swim in melted wax with retention
And walk in desert sand too soft to run
And fight in battle where no winner’s won
Only gruesome pain and bloods reception
To drown in sorrows own self infliction
And march and march after beats final drum
Then yes. A fool indeed… the one that loves
A fool… who fought more than the gods allowed
A fool… who dreamt more than the stars suspend
A fool? No. A man, as pigeons to doves
A man who sees heavens and not just clouds
A man who smiles at the bitter end.
Curse for this Town 