P.R.I.S.M.: A Collision Of Angles

Jerry Wayne Lawrence


Rumors Become Myths. Mystics Conjure Many Mysterious Things N A Ancient Room.
Broom Of A Elder Witch Sweeps After Her Big Ol' Pussycat.
Regret Rides Away On The Winds Of Change.
Rearrange Lives With The Right Power: 2 B The President On The Penultimate Pedestal.
Wall That Came Tumbling-Tumbling Down When Jack Broke His Crown.
Clown Killer After The Crown Of The Best Murderer While, Again, On The Loose.
Goose, A Swan, As The Dawn Becomes Magic.
Static Clears As I'm, Again, Lost In The Pleasures Of My Cracked P.R.I.S.M.

  • Authors: Broken Ankh (Pseudonym)
  • Visible: All lines
  • Finished: February 14th, 2023 01:00
  • Limit: 15 stanzas
  • Invited: Public (any user can participate)
  • Comment from author about the poem: Just Write, Fellow Poetz. Please...Have As Much F.U.N (Fury Unleashed Now) As Possible. Peace, Love, & Blessings.
  • Category: Fantasy
  • Views: 13
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