we trip upon a gilded framework of
woven lies and ensnared vices,
while our scars speak volumes
and utter piercing syllables that
b e w i t c h us to remain
fallen, and broken, and just....
lost.
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YOU ARE READING
ESOTERIC PHILOSOPHIES
Poetry-thoughts in the form of little rivulets that part from the undulating river of my cryptic mind in a poetic jumble of words- ~ e s o t e r i c p h i l o s o p h i e s ~ ©Aneet, August 2015 lowercase intended
