Green Clouds # 2

Green flurries of folly flip and scurry about
into my tender grasp so that I can hold them
and mold them into the precision I need

They bring a balance to the fallacy of plight and despite
and level out the scored tendencies of flame and passion
until I scream to be let out from the formication of sin

There on the evening I light my folly like a fuse
and step once more outside my shedding skin
standing heady in the moonlight I feel my fleeting breath

Thinking of the trinkets of my burning life of ruts
I watch the clouds descend and bear me with them into dark
singing songs of tempting righteousness and sorted human death

poem by Poet Dragon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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