Fever Weaving
An evanescent swift spin,
a clockwise direction,
my sweet tale to whisper,
a collapsing of a star,
weave-heave it, I stare,
an asunder of dark mar,
and your petrified glare
to dismay or rejection.
End of time just dilates
of an astral light glazed,
detrimental to subside
in a desperation wail,
may recall it, if you saved
a lost life that befell,
in a persecution hunt
of a gloomy foolish haze.
An absurd of charioteer
on a strange path of life,
my song becomes elusive,
links my pillow of death,
in a graveyard to avoid
of lost lives even stealth,
fever dance of sly esprits
to expose their strife.
A demesne of my quill,
linear daunt, a red wine,
ludicrous is every year
on a deleterious sphere,
asymmetric music tones,
and an esoteric fair,
Destiny will laugh again -
to expended life's twine.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
