Confessions of a Romantic | The Eyes of Argus

Argus 1981

I was born to
wear flowers ’round my head
and dance about a village square
I was born to
sing songs of mirth
and panegyrize the morning sun
I was born to
dream away this piteous world
and set free those vexed by reality
I was born to
guide unicorns to the softness of poppy fields
and hear the melodious tunes of the Muse
I was born to
spin new visions in the understandings of the mercurial ones
and mingle through crowds of fanciful poets
I was born to
be a caster away of cynicism
and heal wounds through fable
I was born to
be loved and
give love to all the earth and heavens


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