Sliding Down a Column of Broken-Sentenced Symbolic Prose

Sliding Down A Column of Broken-Sentenced Symbolic Prose

Delivered in a Blasé Droning Monotone

and Dying a Quivering Death

I found it among misused colors of misconformity

pressed against my mad desires,

offering itself to me

in tom-tom ambiance…

it was born in a tainted nightclub

where graceful orbs are slain in silence

then poured from a listless chalice…

might as well drink the wind-

such a mad languid form,

moaning in its peculiar, singular language,

twirled in an elusive motion that I could not catch…

teased with brambled sensations

from spindled arms of earthy shoots

digging into a cosmic sculpture,

tearing at its fleshy strata…

bluing cheeks of the dancing, devilish derva

freeze at first snowfall,

a visage of questing simplicity

targeting smiles,

swinging gates left squeaking on a hinge…

the keys tumble

into the frosted fingers of a golem

caught seducing his jagged rocks,

the sun awaking to his large ovular eyes

hungrily devouring the helpless mass before it…

and with its bony-fingered depressions

indented permanently around its own cadavered neck,

a column of sentence-fragmented symbolic prose,

genuflecting to a droning monotone,

blasé wherever possible,

seething with bitterness

and oozing poison throughout,

ends,

as the protagonists die a quivering death,

twisting and writhing all the way down its tubular length.

originally intended to be like the recent artful works of GreenHrtPaleMoon