Belladonna Blue
Belladonna blue.
Scenes in a mystery, do.
Hope, need ye accrue?
Indeed! Heart, why bleed?
Lead? Others or ye? Be! Sea;
Four seasons; change? Strange...
Cold core, darkest door?
Ancient lore, forgotten shore?
Anything for sure?
Weathervane, point! Taut.
Stretching out without a doubt?
Shout? Pout? Win? En route...
Sickle of death god?
Hand, hold on! O carrion;
Seen thy crow? Slow? No...
Poets, why write? Sight.
Procession, no end? Night? Light.
Gods of thunder, roll.
Oracle, thy fate.
Sylvan, honeysuckle, wine.
Fates Three, Muses Nine.
Choose? Which direction?
Suffering, set us free? Plea!
Flea, heard ye of she...?
Yes, so lose heart not!
Automaton, run robot!
Thought, caught? Got the lot!
Deep creek, art thou wound?
Hurting? Me too. Life? Strife, knife.
Blink back, tears of years...
Ravine, emptying?
Silken purse on cotton string?
Sling, shot out? Without...
Great queen, thy machine!
Devour, cursed dog! Smog, slog.
Waterlog, thy bog...
Illuminate, Fate!
Crossing o'er the double strait?
Staggers in my gait...
Soldering, soldiers?
Aim for whites of eyes? Surprise!
Criticize the flies!
Tympani, turmoil.
Garden soil knows when to boil!
Ask and receive? Sieve!
Generation, gone?
Kingdom maun on grassy lawn?
Carrion crow, caw'n...
Pick up and flee? When?
Old master, disaster: been?
Yes, and, then again...
Fireplace, hearth! Hot stone!
Sparks on loan to thrones of bone.
Loan what ye own? Cone.
Ahead? Tread well, step.
Causality, thanks.
Fortune, maybe. Soon...
Vespers, thy bell. Well.
Fish, in ocean stay, today.
Runaway? Of course.
Black abysm, home?
Void, employed? Thus say some. But...
Just what is a job?
Hand of God? Well, no.
That's a position. Mission!
Purpose, define! Shine!
Shrine, thy offering.
Magic, thy ring. Ladder, rung.
Under tongue? Sing? Sung...
Glasses, clean? Seen? Lean.
Prospects, time to rise. Hies? Prize.
Hurricane, spin! Span...
Plan, made? Ocean, shade?
Game, played? Forest, glade? Trade? Slayed?
Anyway, delayed...
Gaunt gangrel, golden?
Stolen. White snow, hide nothing.
Loving mother, you!
Sail for home? Poem.
Stern caps on huge waves, flavor.
Salt, deep water, time...
Copyright © Chris Jensen | Year Posted 2025
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