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May 2018
meadow filled whiskey eyes
reeks toxicity of one's demise
traces of its gaze was shattered and tainted
nights spent on heart-bled ink was awfully raided

gloom-tinted lips by midnight howls
whispered hymns of agony the mind fought to allow
disguised in empty phrases of flowers in joyful hues
choked pass the lumps grown by unfaithful blues

star-sculpted hands was forbidden to touch its moon
like tides distorting balance, leading one to its doom
deprived of contact it was glazed to numbness
by knife-like tears, scarring itself by infectious recklessness

she's a flower grown in her deathbed
inhaling art; releasing toxic without dread
a tragedy disguised in handpicked shade of yellow
roughly sculpted by life but in his heart she remained mellow
Written by
Kaye I  17/F/Narnia
(17/F/Narnia)   
  251
   Keith Wilson
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