There are no more sparrows
left in my mornings innocence
no more wind whistling sweet change
only stone shadows
bleed my moon wizened
even night is marred by my pain,
I'm a victim from my own helotry
a warm feathered hinderance
imbued by a cryptic curio camarilla
wrapped in colossal tantrums
of glaciated acceptance,
my related revered raconteur
is my Heraclea and Asculum
the encumbered consanguinity
is my mucronate scourge.
I'm a two faced shadow
in a four squared reflection.
May you drink in the star of I
to birth the gravity of you.
Copyright ©2017 and 2018
WhisperingQuill.All Rights Reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted
in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods,
without the prior written consent
of the author or publisher.
All my poetry is copyrighted and stored in author base. All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws
Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright
Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3), WhisperingQuill.
-
Author:
Whisperingquill (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: December 24th, 2018 00:14
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 38
- User favorite of this poem: Laura🌻.
Offline)
Comments2
Wow..this is stunning..I have to look up a couple of the words u used even, which is rare for me...brilliant
Thank you Pharaoh 33.
Whisperingquill,
An outstanding write!
Sean Rowe’s lyrics suitably complement your poem!
An amazing read, especially the ending...
“May you drink in the star of I
to birth the gravity of you.”
~Laura~
Grazie
La mia gentile amica poetica.
Prego...il piacere è tutto mio!
Le vostre poesie sono affascinanti!
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.