Immortal

Beware Diana!Those pieces are really precarious,
Freshly spilt blood still solemnly presiding over.
Her fist is imbrued with potion of freedom.
Hey moron tiles! Better hymn your business.
Hanged clock contradicts humming silence,
World feasting within system's blanket.
Constellation constituted her faithless fate,
As Tubes brusted into saucy procastination.
While I kneel down beside the honyed mass,
He was awaiting to jot down dumb pieces.
A dead owner , a new fable
Tears luckily torn apart
Hours , thy vandals
...Silence in our honour please...
Once ,Beating alive
Oh ! So sorry about myself.
Bamboozling events prolonged senses.
The moons know me as her dried tears
Gardener of that slashed mass , shame!
Breathing our last moments of survival
Mortal pains piled up in inked pages
Only some aloof stars staring by
Their beds are unaware of us
A pool of whimsical thoughts
News headlines befriended
Huh, anchors anchoring job.
....Volatile vagabonds....

The Death was mine,
An Aphrodite born out of Tulips
That once bore thorns as Roses.
Sliced off vagaries stiched those pixies
With threads of ecstacy kissing lullabies.
Hark! Thy skin was baptized by Apollo
Bringing Spring to life with grovy strokes.
Time drips on the alter of memories,
While I pray for the Song of Hell.
Those roadside Cupids gropped my sanity
That roadside Cupid stripped off our reality.

Your stubborn obscene exasperation
Gifted me back a grieving infatuation..
The memories metaphored ragged riches
Stoking up puled up raging Dido down there.
The glittering sunshine eeks the despairs.
The dazzling darkness cossetted thy Cherubins.
The days and nights mimiced treacherous Janus
As I sank into strangling ocean of solitude.

She stares back at the cushion of unbrindled agony,
Wonders wandering along the dwindling silence

Call me Hades, shattered in the isle of desolation
Those left-over chats reignited fallen leaves of fall.
The season gardened ivies of whims and fancies,
Tepid leaves of sanity adourning barren tree of hopes.

She will confront Icarus, afloat on rippled reality,
While I will retaliate from the burning bonafide
The farrago of feelings will keep on reeling like nymphs,
As Dionysus ruled out absence twice with presence.
It will be me ruling all over as a spitted mess of Rumours.

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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