Schemer

Do not subscribe to fatal grooves,
Mind mental moods that plunge sharp blade;
Heed then the taste of petty waste,
No need to feed or grumble strain;
Mesh up your daze with appetite,
Frost burns with cold fingers that choke;
Dying embers in swirls of ash,
Caress that grip of fiery flesh;
Poke your nose here in dashing slots,
You know you can flesh out pure pains;
Nobody cares to keep love warm,
Adorn the wise with hopeless stains;
Undress the curves of naked dreams,
Now at long last a brilliant sculpt.




Leon Enriquez
29 October 2015
Singapore
Copyright © | Year Posted 2015

Poem

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