Bittersweet - A Poem by Moe

"...flock of birds, hovering above..."

oh bittersweet the taste of skin

that memory stored recalls within

the kind that drives a weak man wild

but draws a tease to one beguiled

oh sainted man call forth to prayer

and let thy soul find wisdom there

for lest thy slip to common woe

laws made for men, thy common foe

but sainted sinner knows this place

for he's been blessed to rest his face

betwixt the stems when rivers spray

and places where his Lord doth say

so find ye comfit in the truth

that freed this once religious youth

tis love that makes all passion true

for God and skin in me and you

~Apollo