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by rosita Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Poetry · Relationship · #931233
A poem about feeling controlled.
Island’s dislodged from the creeping crown
Firing flaming chains across innocent blue
Queen, my expendability drowns in your gown
Trees are dead, grass is gone, all I want is you

The will, the way, the play of you
Equate to me to see, to be the truth
As the fires of the old ways simmer in my view
The atrocities of your falsities kiss me smooth

Strength regenerated as a forceful limb
Unto me as an aerosol of beautified pleasure
Crawling from your velvet hold on a slow-coming whim
Through your castle’s flames the last glimpse of your peppermint treasure

A vagabond crew of one to flatten your home
Pretentiously preparing your precarious demise
Until your hungry storm weathers me alone
Unstably starving for a solution to this surprise
© Copyright 2005 rosita (rosie at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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