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Premium Member Villanelle: Cowered Crushed Cramped Cold In the Pit of Our Stomachs
Villanelle: Cowered crushed cramped cold in the pit of our stomachs

Cowered crushed cramped cold in the pit of our stomachs
We drag our ego thrones saddled on stooping lean backs
Fiendish liege Lords’ furnace mouths whiplash at run amoks

None can bear the thought shrunken image left on...

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© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: cowered, character,
Form: Villanelle

Book: Reflection on the Important Things