What if poems could be symphonies, and people their orchestra? June 16, 2015. But I, none other; too what reason for. Than to save a self from its own descent,. Who amidst drunkards and harlots spoke. Of the virtue in wine, the vices of a virgin. But I, before faith; falling prey to burgeon,. Bearing the bastards of our heaven as yolk,. Of remorse; a thistle and solace; its garden. I give unto ye, then unto ye I surrender.

Now just where did I choose to begin my summer read-fest you ask? .

The easiest thing to do is quit, give up. But the right thing to do is to pursue, to conquer.