the end imparted, and washed ashore
as the words you spouted were found untrue,
your aura began to smell of mildew,
that reek of old stale water resting beneath a wooden door.
your profane words without a cure
your saccharine eyes, vitreous, I could see through.
leaving us askew,
and falling out of place, away I began to soar
above and beyond the spacious blue, free
warm currents with the ability to lift,
while below you looked astray.
to myself I smiled so simply,
and away you began to fade and drift
into another prosaic shade of gray.
No comments:
Post a Comment