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Rone Gilbert


San Diego, CA, US

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Giving the Slip


Rone Gilbert

What sorrow we find in bitter excuses
When love has slipped through changing hands,
And ours are not the ones that hold it
Like the frozen river can.

Our love is lost, as food for the sparrow
Which cowers from the giver's touch;
Our love is conquered by blood and marrow
That shrinks when age improves his clutch,
And when the golden bells have rung
The song that makes the sea nymphs come.

Bitterer still we rise and wake
To test if ours are eyes that shine
The light that only lovers make,
Or if they fade by bright noontide.

Love will once more take its hold
Where chance has placed it, far from us.
We will once more pine its loss
While staring into the plain of lust.
The stars will apethetical shine,
The winds upon your body blow...
As you are not meant to be mine
This passion dies to you unknown.

Divorcement Engaged


Rone Gilbert

This was not the first time to marvel
That a lost eternity was stirring
With the air of forgone gods.
When the attack of ancient marbel rose,
When the ring upon the hand felt heavy,
And the life known inside their walls a hell
Burned upon us at the custom's alter,
000 was the reply you gave
As I kept gaping at what I defy.
Smeltering a new forge with heat,
Rosemary, candles in a starlit design;
Uttering the words to spirits and goddesses
That they should envoked send help to me.
Faded lipstick, torn up coat, a besieged armor
Of goaded amour and wine,
Left you abandoning your battlements,
And on the field your submission died with 000.