Forgotten

By Phil Rosie Gioldasis
Of ore and land of tis I see.
Ore tis history like forts to be.
Of hidden mysteries without er name.
Without pirates of thy act to blame.
Like strongmen and of boast of ore.
Like a furnace and ditches to bore.
I am of all this of tis to blame.
Conformed from life of tis to breath.
A grace of God to hold this sheave.
A glutton man of tis to still bare.
And arms so stiff tis I must share.
Like tis I live a shackled man.
And sacrificed unknown tis all I can.
Of all me wishes and grant I cause.
A blind man to overthrow as grace.
To leave me dreaming in my place.
Crumpled histories tis this I dream.
With here and there a tis with gleam.
Unknown to all but a winning dream.
As if thy wait before her flight.
A sail to take thy through the night.
An atlas her flag a beautiful sight.
Of this peace what ship she brings.
Buried forgotten in all thy dreams