Decay
^Truth is the smallest of all cays.
Surrounded by blood waters of the past...
the dorsal fins of doubt and deception.
Only the brave dare takes the chance.
To swim out to it and fend off the thrash.
Most would rather stay where they're at.
With the plush comforts of the arrogant mainland.
Suckling poison fruits of ego and half-truths...
then sashay upon the decay of the damned^
Copyright © Anthony Biaanco | Year Posted 2021
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment