We found the same Inn that Master had dined in/
Gathered the group and avoided what would be defined sin/
And then we began schemes though we knew we can not win/
But hope is a disease that we would gladly just let in/

We sat for hours, twisting tales as it would suit the cause/
And in walked a legionnaire which immediately swayed our course/
He spotted the gathering and immediately noticed our pause/
Looked like he would arrest us, but we had not broken their laws/

He offered and I let him sit and eat with us/
I could tell by the handshake that he was illiminatus/
We sat into the night picking our brains with asparagus/
Till one of the group said “Brunus, you know way more than us”/

I nodded, for I had been assaulted by knowledge last night/
My words came to life and tried to murder me last night/
I survived the battle but I knew I had lost the fight/
So I let go of my doubts and walked straight into the light/


His Wait

To this day, I wonder
Why did he sit
Beneath the serene oak
In the crook where he fit

Was it the chirps
Of the birds flying by
Or the psychedelic dance
Of the sun’s rays in the sky

He would sit and stare upon
The little dirt road into down
Never flinching or stirring
Till the sun goes down

Then he would go home
Or so it seems
And get down on his knees
And pray to see her in his dreams