Clot Poem by Suhel Akram

Abject clot of blood dropped from crest,
sponged wet down in plethora of least,
line ends up with zilch in laundered twist,
not for it a ocular except the cenotaph desolate,
left it was emanated to be sponged to obsolete,
years of minutes washed marks of clot desperate.

Innated he from clot sponged in betrayal,
perfections he blemished in every amble,
amaranth of bliss he painted in black marble,
canopy of indigo he clouded dark with wroth,
spared no femurs walked in his malefic nest,
cursed every them with his touch cimmerian.

Ailed he even she his bright star,
stepped her he in catacomb of fear,
hurt her he in second every near,
spared he not the angel of benevolence,
cursed her too with tears of despondence,
crossed he cross-lines of atrocious fence.