Hidden Lies
There, thrust to
high Heaven
my ever trusted foe
whose flashes flames
of fine froth
lured me within his
caste raps.
There, lies my
intent torment;
A galaxy of my
inventor
Deadly duel
reminiscence.
Falsehood keg me in
Bars,
spade off, from
sprayed spittle.
Like a barren
scarecrow.
Stood scar of the
underworld,
A trait, from
trusted Martian
His facade holds a
fang
His rear springs a
barrow
His mid inhabits a
maim,
runs the raw rubbles
of a rival,
What a rust of
uncrowned remedies?
Like the unspoken
mirage.
Seared off from the
carcass
Set asunder from my
design
Have I return unhurt
and unscarred?
Where are the fang,
barrow and maim
That once engulfs my
whole sanity
where is my
entrusted foe?
Where are hands that
spared me?
Whose satire bears
me up,
Like the spider’s
barrow
is the cradle of my
existence?
There goes my foe
There goes my
torment
A friend and a
comforter,
Engrave in a solemn
sepulcher
Owe in spread wings
to oblivion
Leaving a fang for a
portion:
Solace that hurts,
Secrets that sieved
the siege
A hidden jewel for a
treasure
Truth that heals.
Copyright © Benjamin Isibor | Year Posted 2013
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