Graced with obsidian robes,
Shaped by the night's globes,
They bet against me,
Taunting me like an Icarus,
Sweet melodies floating from Neptune's sea,
They daze me,
A stardust high,
I will combust near the satellites.
YOU ARE READING
Tangents
PoetryIt's some kind of literary form. Quote me: k.t. Sometimes explaining something does not give it meaning, but leaves it without purpose.
