My tears are salty and do sting
Harsh words shoot from your rock and sling.
Your voice tosses salty mist
that blemishes your soft kiss.
Your cloak of love, thought so pure,
was fool's gold, a nasty lure.
My tears are salty and do sting
Harsh words shot from your rock and sling.
|
Author Notes
A Potlatch club submission: The Octelle, is a poem consisting of 8 lines using personification and symbolism in a telling manner.
The syllable count for this verse is 8, 8, 7, 7, 7, 7, 8, 8,
The rhyme scheme is aa/bb/cc/aa.
The first two lines and the last two lines are identical.
Thanks for the use of: Diva by avmurray on FanArtReview.com
|
|
