around my poems...
...around my poems I now close walls
and employ all the compassesto frantically twist their needle
and pledge the radars to deceit
the audience that watches this scene.
...dethbed trenches braid my pillow;
white feathers cicatirzing my scars.
...oblivion, oblivion warms my skin
and while am my only kin,
I chose to grim, or smile
when ever I want.
Out of focus I succeed to nihilate the greed
and with speed of dark annulate the body electric
and part from my own self to eclectic esteem
and gravity. Around the rings that seemingly
hold me, I shall navigate their carvings
that only my eye catches.
The spell has been thrown to ether and even
if nobody listens and cups it in the bottle,
the reverie of these parts of the valley
shall hibernate deep inside me, making
my asylum, from where I can only watch
storms fornicate the other timid alleys.
My virginal poems, a fortress of mine
shall now entwine the endless knots
and hide my face while hide me not.
...around my poems I now close walls
and employ all the compasses
to frantically twist their needle
and pledge the radars to hide the meaning
to audience deceived by the tweedle.
Poetry by Bjanka
Read 870 times
Written on 2011-09-20 at 11:11
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