Jerome by Anastasia Forfotă - HTML preview

The Confidant’s

The camel's hair's their made up lair

Made up from sand and prayer

I wash the camel's feet and mane

A beauty of the desert

They desert him when he needs their aid

But water from himself he takes it

For what a cost

A sword and ear

To end the utmost

Of three years

For him my soles have led me near

But he had passed through needle's ear

And I in my imagined fear

Have hanged myself in try to veer

Toward forlorn a well and lost an ear

And in that one a spear