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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required O' moment of mist-glazed melancholia ~ I'm shrinking in paper-cut smokes of shrivelling sunsets, amidst the seizures of silence, there I surf ~ in swollen skulls of selfless swan-orchids, that once splattered pigments of poisoned pearls upon navy-neon shrine of the sun, who traded my scars with an eloquent eclipse and buried me in metallic merlots, beneath mercuric lakes of myths. Tonight, hear me as I sing in pencil-sketched debris of pensive dandelions, ferrying through the mine-fields of monarchial mints ~ building catastrophic castles upon bloodstones, where corpses of intuition remain clustered in clueless imaginations. Perhaps, my soul is the sigh of graffiti graphites ~ stretched as soft sparks across the ebony elegies of this iron-inked agony, chiseled by the spice of snow-tailed stars, and I've become a silhouette of ageless sorrow, stitched by the soliloquy of seawaves ~ who shaped me with sepias as a dagger in my own shadow, engrossed in the illicit illumination of an eagle-eyed iris. With the hunter's instinct, as the wolf-howl breaks my ribcage and kisses that crying sky ~ drape me in lunar dew, where vitriolic veins entwine in the mosaic of camphor cobwebs ~ and slay glittering goblins with time-slashing swords. For, I shall soon breathe the rebellion of catharsis, in the valley of death ~ when tears of heart, trapped in whiskey-rose ruffles of russet rays, drizzle through a disastrous dispersion, emanating secret sirens that swallowed spiritual sailors ~ once serenaded by those seven shades of sin. I wonder, can you feel my shivers as I dip my fingers in the venom of volatile violets, who never heard my cries ~ as I'm plucked like the last word of woe from those stems of porcelain damsels ~ dripping diamond dreams upon freckled garnet gravels? do those blackcurrant crystals, coiling the moon, still grieve... for feigning ignorance to this foliage of flaming fears ~ ignited in the lamp of bones? Or Is love but a lie, engaged to the tomb of emerald tyrannies — like a mistress of harlequin melodies? "maybe, In Litha's mirror I shall slowly burn ~ draped in cyanide conspiracies of crimson memories, bleeding a diabolical dance of deja vu, upon the grave of butterflies who never fluttered... and I'm the skeletal silk of nocturnal buds, veiled in black, a bride of nefarious mantras ~ blooming in nightglow wisps, as leaf-lacerated twilight forevermore tapers me away..."
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