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Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #1915911
This poem is a tribute to Baudelaire and actually won me a competition in high school.
The Infection coyly spreads,
This truly demonic ailment
Has tethered itself to my Soul.

A Tower may lose its pillars;
A King severed from empire;
A Skeleton torn from grey life.

Sensation of unwelcome mastery,
Prostrate Cruelty and Coldness
Entomb this contented invalid.

Art thou bemused of sort, to this
disappointing maze? Forgive and
Examine, ye own charlatan ways.
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