All this was a long time ago
There was a man, a force to yield
In sullied frame;
He was not taught of fear
Or wrong;
No one dared to imitate
His natural vices.
He had a mind
Ruthless and untamed,
Received many wounds
Outstripped death;
He was impervious to innocence
Deep-rooted in time,
His deliberate unhappiness-
Perversely joyful-
Sentenced him
To himself.

T. Byram Karasu, MD is the author of Rags of My Soul

• Print
• Send to friend
• 
• 
• 
• 
• 

Have a comment? Start the discussion here!

Tags: byram, fear, happiness, innocence, long time, love, mystery, rags, t byram karasu, unhappiness, vices, wounds