Hear !
This potion calling dreaming:
is the hope of the world.
And when the people start hoping:
it means that love has unfurled.
With them both under the line of down,
this thing we call evil shall be hurled.
For one day, under the apricot sun,
we will finally glimpse a loosened burl.
Which will open an escape;
to the apotheosis of gold.
Which will carry a chain,
of treasure chests never mauled.
Filled with diamonds and gems,
—or so I have been told.
For under all its' treachery,
the world it does hold.
In its beautiful hands,
corrupted by naïvety's demands.
YOU ARE READING
Poesy of Eloquence
Poetry❝ this tragedy is soaked with tears that dry the ink in my hands. ❞ ━ the poesy I've yearned to release ever since I taught myself to pick up the pen and write. ❝ for if the painting of my words be the garden upon the gate of heaven, glimpse them...
