The Prodigy

You need not appreciate my past,

when my prodigal temperament cursed.

My most entropic devils,

a decaying genius from birth.

I crawled from earthly glories,

ascending for a gentler air,

yet how my youthful vigour,

haunts my sickened flair.

Still her dark curse floats,

from my canvas subtly flirts.

Night charms my hall of pearls,

an unforgiving dark world.

How tenderly my heart loves,

awaiting for a lover’s trust.

What truth of life awaits,

in the woods of wanderlust?

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Published in: on 13/11/2015 at 3:23 PM  Leave a Comment