Christopher
Kenneth
Hanson
A Moat
Dirge
Quite quiet,
We left the scene.
Or should it seem,
Devastated and wandering.
Trails of despair,
As firmly weighted down mass.
In desperation.
Here my lament crawls,
So fall asleep now.
Float by beat to this bleak
canvas,
And a secret to keep,
Beneath castle walls.
Two Anagrams of
Live
A vile of red potion,
May line this crown,
With seasoned captivity.
Fluttering by a poignant
phrase,
Upon this, I may readily see.
Maladroit oh simpleton,
And hear this rhymed defeat.
Without which rumored evil
Would even dare to drink.
Oh Bind, the Perils of
Function
Out of the womb,
Thrown Into this cycle.
Most caustic concordance,
Seeks stolid embrace.
Then passion fueled as we send
another,
Wet dripping, through decadent,
polarization.
Drive hormones drive!
Turn and toil,
Tap the brain that bakes the
bread.
Kiss me quick,
And produce another.
I will need someone to comfort
me,
Whilst I rue the next day.
Christopher Kenneth
Hanson is a creative writer
whoenjoys collecting
animation art and creating art
himself. His tastes lean
towards Surrealism and Abstract Expressionism
frequently.
http://sites.google.com/site/ckhwear/home
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