Abysmal i:

In the time of my era,
The saga; i won’t,
And the blood beseeched,
Dripped over eyes, your throat.

For the sake of sun,
The flower, i made the rose,
Believe me, don’t teach,
I am a jungle; died prose.

As bright as my darkness,
As light as my will,
As weak as my heart,
As alive as my beguile.

Walk the unstable,
Keep my tide,
Waxed the blue,
In smile i hide.

Call upon the accepted,
Undead to be dead,
A grave of pure,
Truth had me fed.

©reserved.

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I write what i see, and feel what i breathe. Poetics is what i bathe in.

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