Poetic Slavery

Visualize-

A suspended terrace

High up palace...

Surface—

Breezes… like the innards of an ice cold furnace

Harboring traces—

Turmoil and—

Peace.

My pen the mace

Firmly brace

Doth make similes and metaphors;

not smile and candour

But…

Face (and embrace)—

Bondage!

  

 

On this place

(my notebook page)

I make them pledge

Faith;

Nay the quintessence of

The firmament or physiology

But that of abject poetic slavery.

No reparations!

Just a daunting realization that...

I… AM… THE… ACE!

(up in sagely space.)

I interlace (them)

at a beastly pace.

Creating a balance

of grimace—

And solace.

(Peace)

‘ALAS’!

I have writ (again).  

© I A Saeed 2011