Or
Versiform These Pain-things Are
Quietly these colours will fade
but soon they will be as one.
For a moment i will stare
into this deep saddened sea
and will suffer the death's fright.
↕
Sedately these Eyes are made
Behind those aghast ere face is gone
Lapse, glimpse, fine, spare
The gaze urges faces to see
The void of spectacle Bright
Under these waves emotions lay
still never they'll return
as they are laid to rest.
Into this one lonely life
which, perhaps is growing.
Painfully...
into life to die
↕
Sensory denial has no turn
Form's innuendo dead as best
Thru these prodigious lite
Sur-real Muses are dancing
Proudly…
On this post mortem dye
…
With Shape of Despair
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