Deep One's

The aches and pain
One goes through
Is not one's gain
That its mind thoughts threw

The muscle's if the lips
Form a pleasant posture
Beneath these connected tips
Earn for the true gesture

The pending current
Erroneous or right
Instantly the dominant tyrant
Halts the urge to write

The pathways of the future
Reap its special beat
Nails penetrate the live foot sculpture
There was no cure, there was no treat

The composition of this earth
And the baleful competition to bear
Eventually moulds to dirt
And travels to the origin of being bare