Licensed Letters

The way you weave your
Whimsical words works wonders
On my weak worn woe:

Satiating small,
Seemingly smiling, safe snakes
That steal, strangle us,

Devouring deft deeds,
Denigrating, destroying,
Then denying death:

Taking toy tokens:
Totally trivial things
For them; to us: Truth:

Precious power in
Pure places people don't pause,
Proving pristine peace.

But robbèd wrongly,
Reality rudely wrenched
From its restful rooms.

Cursing, clawing cries
Coming from clumsy conquest
By corrupt claimants.

Falling forward for
Freedom, failing, fighting fate:
Fallow fields fair poor.

Locked in loose links,
Left to look, laugh at: alone
I lose my loose limp.

A gentle glimmer,
Gaily guided toward my gate,
From you, gives great glee.

Egregious Evil,
Envious of your earnest,
Exclaims, "Enemy!"


Attempts to abate
All amiable actions:
Avoid a rebel.

You want to wrack my
Winding, weathered, wiry cage,
But wingèd Wrath wins.

I, inside, implore
Intensely, imbued with strength,
Invoking my ire:

A virile volley,
But vigor violated,
You vacate vain life.

Now noxiously numb,
Needing no not, nor, never,
I am negation.

I throw my whims to
The wind and watch them wither
Away wond'ring why...




Poetry by MiHa
Read 551 times
Written on 2009-02-03 at 06:34

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