Deep purple poetry
sublime in the shadows
etched into glass prisms
weeping angels confess
it’s beautiful here –
Hang the masked shadow!
Belching fire and ash and smut
behind translucent shades
of purple-flowery curtains
bathed in speckled rust.
A rebel is born, in the storm;
within these gaps of battered rocks
busts streaming with blood, caked
by sun’s violent rays, pure energy
destroying, purifying, a phoenix-esque
victory, soaring in spatial coves.
It’s beautiful here.
Tonight, the sky belches purple ink
Ears twitch at the rhythmic gyration
Eyes palpate the beautiful darkness
And lends it’s ears to the shadows
That stain this parchment with horrors
Bathed with ego of its masculinity,
In one swift message, of purple ink
An angelic tearstained parchment
Drowning, soaring; a victorious death
On it, write I, rebel tales – in the shadows.
It’s beautiful here, it’s hell, with it.
Copyright © 2020, All Rights Reserved
Akinsanya Olutomi Joshua
Featured Image Credit: Steve Johnson on Unsplash