A wild wisp,
bound by a vile kiss.
A rogue thought,
bound by flesh and an unchaste heart.
.
The parallax of bliss..
.
An outcast shut in.
Withering in distraught.
Die blessed, you stand in my cold rot,
Your flow taught.
.
Beckoned by a teal whisper,
enticing the senses to tame.
Amethyst's fragile wish,
inviting my essence to claim.
.
Your coy hum softens the core,
irrigates lust, makes me adore.
You dissent yet knead so servile.
Sweet subject, so ready, so fertile.
.
My Power to poise a psyche,
to hasten growth, or de-generate.
You waste in both pity and modernity;
a Dance of Eternity.
.
Hold my hand and crawl against the grain.
Surround my ecstasy with your misery and pain.
Hold it tighter and crawl through your shame.
Touch my flare, forget your guilt and blame.
.
Adhere to me; my servitude of the Bloodmoon.
Rebound your mental plea, succulent flame.
Centuries accrued in its elegant name.
Bask with me, potently; impel and preordain.
By Sorav#8697 and Athena#2204 (discord); a collaboration
kill.gratis
- Author: Sorav ( Offline)
- Published: January 16th, 2023 11:55
- Comment from author about the poem: The two dots after \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\"The parallax of bliss\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\" was a major point of contention, which is really funny if you think about it.
- Category: Spiritual
- Views: 7
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