magmatic rage of a midnight bluebird are glowering suns of infinetly birthing universe in its poetic soulfulness


#rage #rowdiram
#PractiseRighteousRage #RowdiramPazhagu

It looked as if a night of dark intent was coming, and not only a night, an age. Someone had better be prepared for rage… ~Robert Frost

whatever the classical verses
hold essential
in there the poetic truth
and soul, its only when one’s
own suns flare

reddening magmatic flows
of a righteous
(in your own fights fought

in bled out deepfringed hearts
splashingly downsized
to destiny’s clotted
darkness spilt haphazard
in sound’s sudden
submergence – this adamant
eternity , rather there’s
never a

lopsiding lounge of brewing
senses in frilled facultative existence
of loosely hung lust laden veils
so in translucence that much
feigns- like crafted rainbow
threaded textures but
afterall dwell

in holed-up bogging hungers, this
maskless hunter in slimed mossy
gloss, luring unabashedly in
vociferous hissing

glowers and gleams, their
rays are at purposed ease to piercekill
the lurking shadowdy greys to the
paling conscience [irreversibly
plunging into their dug shallows]

and whatever whatsoever
coming in way of depthly
and almost deathly climaxings


Pic: web, Taft McWhorter Art


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