Schmog
Revenge a dish usually best served cold.
No payback necessary for the decrepit and the old.
Digging their own resting holes.
Tickets to hell broke the mold.
To evil their soul they have sold.
Falling further from the path that is gold.
So when your vessel starts to run cold.
When you’re ragged and long past getting old.
Climb into your self dug rest hole.
Know you carved the perfect mold.
For a light who’s soul was sold.
And denied walking the path of the gold.
~Introverted Sage~
16.2023.06
