Let me start it off?
Trust the backstabber (Obvious Glarthir paranoia stage for my character, and his dealings with the world)
Trust says the Queen which holds her Breath. Trust says the King which removes his Wedding ring.
Trust says the Clown with his Shrewd frown. Trust says the Beggar whom has never worked for Brown.
Trust is indeed the color of Death, trust will indeed take my Breath, trust will rust and so will my Lust
, thus trust will never find my Immortal Bust.
The old gambler's gambit (Obvious gambler/vagabond role play):
My life is decided on the cast of a die, I rather imply that my death is nigh. Here I am with a heave and a sigh, trailing away with no one but a fly.
When it is time to lie there is no one with a tongue quicker than I, such is the foreseen fate of a now brown nosed fool with a tongue no cleaner than his gruel. I am alone, and so it is now that I moan, and grunt, and groan, for forgive me I have never known. It is only now that I've grown, that I can say again...I have never known..
Excited to view your poems, Plightful