Once, greatly periled by faint hearted trivialities,
He laughs at himself ; drinking spirits by the fire pit.
mystified by his own mortal, oil paintings,
he felt as cold as moonshine inside an iron kettle.
the grounds are shaking inside a smoggy head,
tooth for tooth; beak for beak, art casts away lessons,
a parting couple romanticizes an afterlife,
here and after,
the laughter within him, bellows mystery.
watched by a hazy sunset.
-
Author:
Zapatron (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: July 31st, 2020 13:18
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 12
- User favorite of this poem: Goddess of the Mist.
Offline)
Comments1
This is absolutely beautiful!
Happy you enjoy 🙂
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.