lysistrata

Dark Necessities

Superfluous lips confess

The beautiful grimace

Of a Red Myrmex

When stings

An Airborne Phoenix.

 

Handcuffed knobs hold

The splintered doors

Of a Slaughter House

That sits

Deep in Thoughts.

 

Tell me,have you realised

The metastasis

From past bliss to remote grief?

Ah,the secrets of created creatures

Have caressed me so carelessly

That I came to be Science Fiction.

 

 

 

Comments1

  • Augustus

    I am not familiar with the writer or painter but now am intrigued.



To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.