Monday, January 2, 2017

greed

I love the way the chalice sings
her crystal tones so stark so pure
but so enamored of the ring
it's easy to think she'll endure
the wetted finger on her lips
forever and forevermore
but soon the ring becomes a scream
though I cannot discern between
oblivious to what's obscene
accelerate the patter
until she has but one recourse
to resonate and shatter
and still my finger dances 'round
cut and bleeding  on the ground
where all her shards are scattered
wish I could tell what mattered
And dance with her once more

© 2016 Frederick Andrew ~ All Rights Reserved

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