Rolling, trembling, Rising Stone

What’s beneath the icing that melts?
What’s beneath the house that crumbles?

Like fuel to the car,
Like wings on an angel

Indeed, it’s the bewitching configures of a female being,

blessed is her anchorage

Who’s hidden thoughts do you seek to descry?

There’s a genie in the bottle
There’s a woman ‘tween the shadows of her peers

forced into being of something she isn’t,

To dine with the devil

Devine wine please speak up
Revive or perish,

Lambaste in thorns

She’s loosing herself in his horns

Urges to be free but never makes it to an open gate

She tries to be like the rest but dogfights alienation vis a vis mates

She grasps that the world is flat and she a rolling stone.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s