The Mirror Sees Only Itself
The corpse of this world has been easy to find
it has followed my footstep,
and yet,
beauty is here to astound
its glory confounds.
A bell in a towering light
knell's as it weds death to life -
the hideous to the beautiful.
The loathsome spins its exquisite webs,
The world nurtures both nectar and venom,
perceptions sleight of hand
mocks and bedazzles. One beholding eye
always opening, one always closing,
while my beggar's bowl is emptied
and washed
again, and again.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | 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