I hold a scarlet book.
Branching out,
my brain so focused,
so incensed,
it spews forth smoke
as I read of the wicked
and forsaken,
of hanging trees
and innocent children,
of limber elves,
and supplanted princesses
staring at mirrored refractions.
Dragonsblood revitalizes,
whilst patchoolie sooths
you into believing.
A faded butterfly rests
weary, awaiting
happy endings.
17 lines
Prompt/Week # 37
Pick any object in your room.
Now write a poem describing this object.
*Ball* Poem should be inspired by the prompt/image in some way
*Ball* A minimum of 12 lines, no maximum
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