Saturday, December 18, 2010

Memory & it's folklore'

Intoxicated..like the waiting blur,
Earth to Jupiter, my orbit strums a valor..
Words my calling, falling-of having left me,
Morbid in their waft, my drunk’s brewing..
Estuary of the sanct, my drift’s & it's drifting,
Ultra vires, a frail try,
Blood would gush & my thoughts would now subside..
Given up dependent on few,
The heartbeats a hurt, belittled by you..
Grow up these fantasies of lorn,
Hunt astray, of the blood not tasted,
To faze into a dream another gore..
Hoist another petard of my own,
another spin of cartwheel..tenses & of encapsulated time’

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