Totally comely among the fire
We envision brilliant meaning under the light
Tighten up your wig! The end is going
So red beneath the wind
We condemn lustful children before the land
Alass, Alack! The stink has gone
Quite quaking within the fire
I summon sinning hands beneath the earth
Be wary! The end has come
open-eyed thirsty
walking out of the world
nothing to lose
For how long
the sailor
look for landmarks
wondering why
YOU ARE READING
Incoherent Poetry
PoetryPoetry that serves to clash tonally and ideally with the objective that a new tone, genre, or coherency (some semblance of sense at all) can be made from throwing different ideas together in a bizarre gathering of words.
