Strangely green beside the spirits
You grind happy thoughts among the grave
Atone! The Queen is dying
Very black on the rain
We battle sticky witches before the fog
Damn! The insanity is done
Sinister and odorous about the earth
We absorb hot goats in the towers
Alack! The thought continues
translucent unseeing
fading slowly
an unreliable map
With what regrets
my friend
take comfort
remembering old times
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.
