Enclosed within cocoons of power,
Embraced by bands of silk;
The poor man stands beside a palm
of empty gestures' plea.
Upheld inside an angel's flower,
Afloat in pool of milk;
The melting candle hissing calm
for lovers' passion key.
Seek not the sharp, but only the blunt
to find the map to treasure's hunt.
A contest entry
- The Art Of Words by Poetess12.
2400 points, ended October 14, 2008, 22 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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snorting delicately here you do know don't you lol


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I like the rhyme in this poem. Good flow.
Thank you for your entry.



