Modes Of Art Poem by Didith Marcelo

Modes Of Art



It was made, it was weaved, a character got bruises.
'twas love, that rejects, a flesh got tortured.
It remains, remembered by people who tries to commemorate.

Undeserving, but it's congenial!

A flare of flaws that flowed and raw.
A mockery evil that laughed underneath of the earth.
A zigzagging- path that leads to the pit.
A flare of wickedness has its place to live.

Jiggered! Jiggered! Jiggered!
Jiggery-pockery that jiggled to jiggles.
Then a giggling gigglers who is so gigglish in every glimpse of their sight.

Oh my people! Oh my people!
What have you done?
Who wrote you to wrought like this?
Who embrace these embarking emblematic embodiment that embellished with sly?
Then a culprit was found amongst the crowd,
So they're thrown down under earthy blunt.

Tuesday, January 13, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: arthurian
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
Biblical
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success