Can this
Be construed as poetry,
Or just the ramblings of Mockery?
Are my eyes
To sharp
For imagery,
My tongue,
As slick as swine?
My breath,
A trifling heat
Upon thy nape.
A witches brew of
Mossback Jugglery,
Leaving diddly a trace.
Albeit seen,
From a thousand eyes,
From a thousand miles away,
As a wisp of smoke
Enchanting,
As a serpent sway.
YOU ARE READING
Fallen Stars
PoetryA collection of poetry, prose, brevity, musings, writings and chaotic scribbling from dachaoticmind.
