If I lived in the most crazy summer,
to slowly ruin my sleep to restless,
to lift an anger wanting to encroach,
even zephyr of envy, don't harm my soul.
If I die in obscene burning inflames,
saw an age of cold of a southern dawn,
wailing in nights, with palms in frown,
biting lips in jealous rough lethal voice.
For not keeping my envy of the season, opposite to lust,
left an aroma through a walk in, to blue me from frighting red.
Author notes
~spiritualangel~
Prompt: 4. Summer envy.
A contest entry
- PiF PROMPT CONTEST by penman.
625 points, ended May 24, 2008, 10 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Wonderful
Very well done. Best of luck in the contest.
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hm I like this all accept the last line reads a bit hard, maybe the comma takes away from it? not sure but the rest reads so smoothly.
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