Faux Pulchritude Idol
*nocturne eye flicker*
*bite lip*
*rip asunder*
Malediction of a tragedy fused elegy,
mirror of red rum and visage of chaos.
The truth is a labyrinth of mirrors,
I am the reflection that stares back,
real you tryst behind quicksilver.
Copyright © Beatrix Macabre | Year Posted 2024
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