Ficly

Lengths

I shall run to the end of your sight
Far from your judging ways
Your cutting gaze
My lovelorn malaise
The love of your heart shall wound me no more

I shall ride to the end of the land
Out from the jostling masses
Ignorant classes
Muttering asses
This unkempt society shall dog me no more

I shall sail to the edge of the world
Away from what cares do assail
Money’s in the mail
Life in detail
The angst of procurement shall vex me no more

I shall cross the great void to oblivion
To cease forever in being
Mostly avoiding
All that is meing
My own sorry state shall plague me no more

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