The Camouflages: Feigned Personalities

Posted: September 13, 2013 in Poetry
Tags:

Another day, Another pain
The rose spew the burning rain
The glass jar the fellows brian
In the clay will the precious drain

Your pupette, mine, we laugh
Fainting comics, we feel enough
Cast the lot, the droll thereof
Nothingness of hypocrisy will go off

When he pities, i myself mourns
Two angels evolve; of soot and thorns
Ballad of hope, the soot turns
Glow their candle, i said, as it burns

Who even know the one
The green tree, desert, lone
My mind loots the though alone
The thorns even despise the throne

My soot angel clamour for cover
My thorns angel on her, he hover
Whose deadly wish for thorns, on mine, can be over?
My wish for soot: prays she scale over

Let the sharpest ear, near or far
My witness i seek, even a sire
Chronicle of the moment, river
Prevail not the root nor alter

My soot angel sweet mouth still
How come my sceptics you kill
No offence, No moment to drill
Append my regards, your mind to fill

Poor mind, my trust delivered shame
Neither the eagle nor the eaglet flew, lame
The burning wax, roulette game
The soot worse, the thorn fame

Who knew doubted, fogey-ness
Soot, enigmatic, my foolishness
The later rain, innocence mess
Betrayed! I should have seek thorns bless

An ode to mourn the fall victims
Victims of trust, the glass jar rhythm
The clay jar, exorcism
I wasn’t perspicacious of the organism.

Advertisements
Comments
  1. Very skillful, to be able to accomplish rhyming that many quatrains, all end-line. Thanks for sharing.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s