Complex, intertwined bramble-thoughts soar in powerful arabesques,
Outlined against the roiling clouds of tarnished-pewter skies.
Beware the thorns of this combative, non-combatant,
Finding refuge in recipes honoring the blood of distant battles,
Beneath the sweet-tart obsidian prize.
The land of trachis, here Ceys was king, Lucifer's son, who shone with all his father's brightness on his face. We both were sons of the morning star, and I loved peace and loved my wife, whereas my ever-shadowed brother was all aggression and sin.
ReplyDeleteBack at yis.....
Nicely cryptic, Chef.
ReplyDelete....served up with a light salad and just a smidgen of divils dressing.
ReplyDelete"Stirring" words?
ReplyDeleteYou need to explain the mood.
ReplyDeleteSeething ?
ReplyDeleteS&S, you summed it up in one word.
ReplyDeleteOk, what happened now?
ReplyDeleteoh the mind...busy busy busy inventing reason beyond reason to prove itself right.
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