Sight of streaks in multitudes..
Written on a mellowed twister..
In the gleaming sand grains..
Stirred under the lightning..
Crushed soft greens stemming..
From the seething folds..
Of clouded moss and filth..
Agape in desolate starkness..
Nudging jutted shards..
Of profanity..
Written on a mellowed twister..
In the gleaming sand grains..
Stirred under the lightning..
Crushed soft greens stemming..
From the seething folds..
Of clouded moss and filth..
Agape in desolate starkness..
Nudging jutted shards..
Of profanity..
1 comment:
but..you don't speak that way at all!..i mean..why??...isn't this a sorta hypocrisy?.. poetry = a lost horizon of jargons!
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