Wilderness of Wormwood
Poetic Perversions plumb the depths of this placid psyche, fading
into the sultry shadows of this purple night, & with a ravens claw pierced
through your hollow breast the distance of memory alas takes flight! & tt's
death in the afternoon as this silver spoon sings a sirens song while elements
collide, slowly they flow into the green chalice of Venus, As golden gardens
grow in the cradling womb of the empress, She's a liquid muse stirring a
scorching essence of flame in the devils belly! & this pen glides gracefully in the ink that is your inspiration, As these
dancing fireflies flutter behind shades of azure, & a thick cloak of
incense shrouds the temple... As weary travelers wander in a wilderness of
wormwood galloping on the backs of green horses, oh how the perfume of your
potency perverts the poets perceptions! For a century forgotten, Lost as the
Eleusinian elixir, but now once more the cup runneth over! “Sante!!!” to the potion
of the Parisians!
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