Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2012
The illusion of my love
Both miscreant and ascetic
Produced a delicious angst..
What instinctive prequisition
Fertilized this condition?
Were those confused
And forlorn thoughts
But an imitation of bliss?
In my self-imposed cage
Alien questions
Played chase with me.
Written by
skc
770
   R Julleitta and ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems