Hardened Heart and Spectrum Soul

There’s naught but cosmos braided in thine eyes

Might blossoms doth flourish forevermore

Thine fingertips blush with that of surprise

Butterflies lilt from the dress thou hast wore

Yet mourning lips dost bleed red from thine tongue

Might melancholy plague thee nevermore

Thine toes amble amongst jagged shears stung

Bats shrieking from the fabric thou shalt tore

Mistress, must thou allow such perplexments?

Monochrome unto shade predicaments

Yet such soul of mine hath colours to spare

I shall love each grey of your heartstrings fair.

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Filed under Fixed Poetry, Poetry

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