deepundergroundpoetry.com
An Hourglass of Nectar
Sour hourglass
Forged in flame
From the fire of dialated stares
Sifts of nectar
Much too bright
Confusion from skin bared
What an honor
To be used
Magnetism of abuse
I can already see the future
Chiseled in stone
No charm in the times I've been a ghost
But i will soak
All that i can
Pollen to my voice
Honey in my beard
To turn the pages
Of gripping hands
Before I'm sent away
Riddled in question
Forged in flame
From the fire of dialated stares
Sifts of nectar
Much too bright
Confusion from skin bared
What an honor
To be used
Magnetism of abuse
I can already see the future
Chiseled in stone
No charm in the times I've been a ghost
But i will soak
All that i can
Pollen to my voice
Honey in my beard
To turn the pages
Of gripping hands
Before I'm sent away
Riddled in question
Published 27th Oct 2020
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