Quatrain of Palaverous Depression - 1271

Quatrain of Palaverous Depression

Palaverous - idle talk

1.
God knows my palaverous
depression, deep, foreboding and
hollow,

My head throbs with every
menacing, guiltless word, I must
swallow.

With age scratching at the edge
of a desperate smile I must
endure,

Idle talk of entering heaven when
I die, puts a clamp on a motivated
cure.

2.
I shall remain in this pit of gloom
surrounding all my hapless
mistakes,

The depth of disgrace whence I have
fallen, is attached to hate without
brakes.

I am forced to take a breath because
I cannot stop the pressure on my
chest,

Soon, I am sure, majestic thoughts
of grace will surround me, so I might
rest.

Yorktown Disciple
2005