Tuesday, January 24, 2012

"the Clutch of Doubt" a poem

The Clutch of Doubt


Within his nest of jealousy,

Snailed as tight as love,

The serpent broods through leaves of matter

And nurses wintry thoughts.


The dawn breaks all her promises

The set intends no pledge;

If stalk of spring drips muse of dew,

The coiler coins his bet.


If chinks of doubt expose his hold

If breath of cruel unwords his most

The space of pain is freedom’s turn

Unfleshing slough of grey-burned ghost.


~ @M@ ~



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