deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Rainbow
She is the prism that splits the light:
A blinding aura that drugs the id,
And makes kingdoms crumble.
She is the field of lotus.
As Ulysses rides to glory
I would gladly rot
In eternal intoxication!
She is the face of Medusa
That turns me into stone.
I swear!
I would kill to appease every whim,
Yet her name
I not yet known.
She is gone,
Not knowing my existence
From a tree,
While in 30 years
I sigh....
Thinking of rainbows.
A blinding aura that drugs the id,
And makes kingdoms crumble.
She is the field of lotus.
As Ulysses rides to glory
I would gladly rot
In eternal intoxication!
She is the face of Medusa
That turns me into stone.
I swear!
I would kill to appease every whim,
Yet her name
I not yet known.
She is gone,
Not knowing my existence
From a tree,
While in 30 years
I sigh....
Thinking of rainbows.
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