Works of Poetry

We have made quality our habit. It’s not something that we just strive for – we live by this principle every day.

Fogged Over

As tar went sunny days—noon gone midnight—

Each step so dimmed the line he dare try lay.

The sheen once set to show his walk failed light:

Did laugh the guideless haze asleep his way.

Tear fell his sight: the rain from a lone sky;

The Beast ravaged his bod, the soul there in.

To muddy dirt was he dead beat; thus lie

His butchered muscle—once firm pulsed—sliced thin.

Then woman lifted man, took grab his pith;

Warm hug encompassed, stored afresh the glow.

Paths two turned one: the past left gift to Myth;

This new sunshine the sole map they need know.

Took hands each, drew the other tight, held dear;

The road, fogged over, did then start to clear.