Faked-Up Summons Poem by Rex Islam

“What it’s a feast without any food? ”

From the heights of poetry, art, or knowledge!
Beyond the profound sky, the vast surges drift
From afar with its enchanted tune, the scarlet heat,
The seasons beckon me up with its mystic shape;
Hold firm down the Earth in its shady appearance.


Wayward wishes to embrace in its mighty grab,
Gestures are to direct the meditative pathway.
Swoon itself in its vacuum with its voluptuous chant;
Make way blocked, a thousand curtain left it short
Of its true love, an abiding hold, or any pull through.
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