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untitled (Free verse) by MacFrantic

There is nothing so sweet as the bitter ode from a woman's tongue. She is the razor blade viper; an unearthly diversion. The meek bask in her unrelenting wrath. Her wares are the grotesque corruptions of long-forgotten gains. What the heart provides, she will nourish, and both will flourish. Yet, in the moment of abandon, that overseer will stumble and drive a knife into the chest. So what is the ruse? It's masked in rouge, and smells of perfumed corpses; a testament to the bygones. Because where the devil sleeps she sits upright, staring into the blackness of everlasting night.

MacFrantic 10-Dec-06/6:19 PM
I'm really just using this site to archive. I read many of the poems, but I don't comment much any more, and I don't care too much if people comment on mine. I'm becoming a better poet through experiencing life, rather than spending all my time on the computer. Be well, and I thank you for the comment.




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