What deepest chunks of leaves you bite, when in the forest, trees doth flight from everwilting, lucid skies, the pyres that burn escape the night? A triple evening, stars of noir, abortion child in pitch black tar. The colour vexes each light flower, as pyres, the creeping night does mar. Convescent, darling frightened web, the spiders leaky fortune spent. But how does every garden grow, with silver shells and cockle bells? And pretty hens all in a row... Aspiring teardrops h-e-a-v-y dread, a growing thunder strikes the bed of thorny pillows doom and gloomy shadows climb above the pines, of dark pubescent green. The needles drop together. Again. When all is dark, crescendo still! Barking roaring seeping blood, red black, but dripping pouring silvered gasps asphixiating dew. Underneath an aqua roof.
the jealous weeding & underneath an aqua roof i think that`s a great-unique-weird style to write i really like ur felling lozi, as i don`t speak very much english i read ur poem using a translator for some words only, and if i understand i think that`s deep.
It's a very nice piece. It evokes enchantment and has depth of feeling. I read it a couple of times, and caught the rhyme that goes along with it. Well done.
