The skirt rustled a violet hue
Within shone truth if only I knew;
the plead of inquiry for the insightful plot
I'd have stayed awhile and brought my thought
For it had been sapped by a rotten keystone
Eclipsed in the night of a broken sea dome
Alas hair of ravens, caressed by me not
Indulged in a book of vice and virtue
The mystery of eyes withheld my endeavor
For fear of a dullness devoid of splendor
But if the lady was alive, I must be dead
So I snuck a look and now wish I had pled
For the moment had passed and she ceased to be
Gone without a trace, the doll of my dream
YOU ARE READING
Loh of Yesterday
PoetryA series of poems governing the sovereign thought within. Perhaps it's a means of fulfillment Or just another thought of cloy To me it alls seems irreverent But perhaps you may find some joy What lies within this crystalline tower Will reveal all...
