deserted in the desert of the dusk
of my youth to stagger and stumble
on the swamp of unemployment
to become trapped in the trap of poverty
but i am now intoxicated with red wine
that divine love demanding a danceexpecting from this toddler of grace
a demeanour of the man who embraced
his death in loin cloth, leaving elegance
his fabric of glory to enemyto cover shame, the stink in soul
and with cream covering aging wrinkles
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