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too brief …
the garland on my brow
too deep, that tangled labyrinth
of epics, eternal
entwining my sinews
the dark, deceitful dew
sopping sun with
the parched lips of laurels …
whispering whims -
spinning them like sugar
into cottony lullabies
honey-sweet lies that drip their
sticky magic on all the
ears they sunder …
no thunder -
just wild wonder and
tender hopes of a breathy kiss
the deathly hiss from a
serpent, soft
winding wispy, aloft
the tangy smoke of my burning ire
a last sacrifice to desire
and all the drab, ugly dreams
that once …
shined.
* this is a form I created called “Bookend Free Verse - I hope you enjoyed it *
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, September 1, 2023
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2023
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