Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
A storm, a sandstorm, a blinding sandstorm! Grits of gold inebriated with a haunted hurricane danced with a fiendish fervour in its search for identity. Glare of gold blinds, grip of greed delirates. Like a marauding butcher, slivers of gold gouged out your saneness. You danced like a possessed, with the yellow glister holding your hand to the funeral pyre  of your created destiny.
0
Oct 21, 2018
Oct 21, 2018 at 12:27 PM UTC
The lost equilibrium
A storm, a sandstorm, a blinding sandstorm! Grits of gold inebriated with a haunted hurricane danced with a fiendish fervour in its search for identity. Glare of gold blinds, grip of greed delirates. Like a marauding butcher, slivers of gold gouged out your saneness. You danced like a possessed, with the yellow glister holding your hand to the funeral pyre  of your created destiny.
the-mystique-trail
Written by
Oct 21, 2018
Oct 21, 2018 at 12:27 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem