"the lake is an encryption of beauty,
tied in with silvery glazes upon the mirror,
i see myself as what i can be, and the one that i am now.
it washes me of my grime, but never my grief.
it can erase me of any dirt, but never my cries.
it can cleanse me of my body, but never of my soul.
why, i cry, has the Heaven sent such an enigma to us?
it whispers in my ear, for the deeds you've done."
YOU ARE READING
striped carnation
Poesiawritten in vivid flow of paragraphs categorized into short lines, it paints a visual description of each fantasy you live in reality.
