Drip....
trickled trinkets
of your dahlia
peccadillo,
into my
messianic
Adam's ale,
ripping away
my keepsake vault
safe keep security
my ambitious fault,
I did not ask
for your
collision
I was content
as a burden
to my shadow,
my flaws are
pyro-kinetic
rainbows
burning
glaciated scars
upon your
innocence,
I only dance
with Diablo
to the tune of
screeching
teardrops,
baton sinister
ornaments
accentuate my
modus operandi,
fall into my
disfigurement
for your
judgement
kisses
grant me
the nightshade
embrace,
alas,
love is a accepting
charitable clarity
in muerte's twinkle.
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WhisperingQuill.All Rights Reserved.
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- Author: Whisperingquill (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: December 18th, 2018 01:03
- Category: Surrealist
- Views: 21
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