The human is a frame befleshed
And furnished with a mind enmeshed
In tarantellic throws of thought.
Tormented by a jealous rage,
Suspicion builds a filthy gauge
To measure all imaginary rivals.
The sea of flagellating surface
Copulates without a purpose -
A climax in a storm reviled
That splashes dying lands beguiled
By 'Save the World'
And other sickly pleas.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem