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Pure Devilment

Within the acerbic pit
of the rotund embellishment,
bloated with intoxicant,
deceptive rapscallions
dance in pure devilment.
 
They are shaken not stirred,
gyrating with the absurd,
on unsteady feet, speech slurred,
Happy hour's shadow blurred,
as they revel undeterred.

Their debauchery will reign
until washed down the drain.
Only the odor with remain.
Life will reek of mundane,
in a dark and foul domain.

Author notes

http://www.redsunfineart.com/files/godard-He-She-Devil-II2.jpg

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Comments


  • Poetic-Theorem silver member
    November 11

    Edit | Reply
    Brilliant penning
    The final stanza packs a devilish punch
    I seem to have remember those days
    wish you the best in the contest..David


  • zee91190
    November 10

    Edit | Reply
    A well written poem. All the best on AP


  • chinmay
    November 9

    Edit | Reply
    Everlasting trace of the devilish endeavor. Impacts with substance.

    Well done and Good Luck.