A Brilliant Decay Poem by Michael Peters

In a garden of experience
Sleeps a giant of prejudice,
On a pillow of incentive
Snoring mist of much reticence.

One inhale of moderation
And another of retraction
Gives him needed much revulsion
From the world of interaction.

Yet in his dream he dreams disgust
For the fairies of the rust lust,
Winking left eye with his mistrust,
Being worried to his deep crust.

Weathered fruit is pale and washy,
Shrub has wrinkles with roots slushy,
All things wither being trashy
While his gums are clenching flashy.

Flurry feeling that he's molder
Grips his heart while it is smolder.
Delight's heavy like a boulder
While he smithers but gets older.

His comatose frame's so frantic,
Eager to find meaning in semantic.
Yet his moves so automatic.
He's trapped while his body's static.

Still he seeks involuntarily
Peace and stillness experimentally
On his pillow coincidentally
Trying life, then rising gently.