Senses are an illusion.
The mind plays slatternly tricks.
We;
the people.
Nothing but puppets;
in the Master's hands.
Enduring Agony.
Blood;
On your hands
Close.
Close your eyes.
And dream of another land.
Brimming with tenderness;
Conciliate
Soon;
Snapped back to Reality;
an instance
Back;
a world of enmity;
Cruelty.
It's OKAY
Were just FINE.
Secretly;
Rotting away;
In time.
~Kira Musick
Senses and illusion. puppets; in the Master's hands. Agony. Blood, tenderness, enemity, cruelty, the facts of life, the realities of life you have a pictured in a sad way. I like the realism in this poem. You have the rare ability to picture the real of life. Thank you dear poetess. tony
the people. Nothing but puppets; in the Master's hands. Enduring Agony. isn't it easy to blame the fate? well written, keep posting!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A nice poetic imagination, Kira. You may like to read my poem, Love and Lust. Thanks