as this twisted mind rots
inside its beloved porcelain shell.
Moments filtered with lucidity, rise and swell
unleashing demons ripped from the depths of hell,
foreboding whitewashed over dull eyes.
Under the weeping skies,
virtue dies.
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Distilled thoughts as this twisted mind rots inside its beloved porcelain shell. Moments filtered with lucidity, rise and swell unleashing demons ripped from the depths of hell, foreboding whitewashed over dull eyes. Under the weeping skies, virtue dies. Author notesForm: Trois-par-Huit [My first attempt at this form]
Three stanzas, combinations possible: 3-3-2 or 3-2-3, a total of eight lines and has the rhyme scheme of a a b b b c c c regardless of the combination chosen. Syllable count 3,6,9,12,12,9,6,3. The last line is the title of the piece. In a list
A contest entry
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