The Personification of Anachronism
A Poem
By Blaise TeresePublished 5 years ago • 1 min read
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I met a Wraith
in mid-day's safe
who told me I was wonderful
he rode a bike
of phosphorous type
in Lands of plentiful
If my sole aid
can help a soul
from this world fade
I'll be so bold -
for crusts and spheres
produce more fear
than what is Elsewhere
I am told -
I compromise a pot of comprehension
relieve ingredients of tension
stir not shake- at other's wake
and who has passed can mention
It I can make
enigma flesh,
mysteries quake
this is my Itch -
an anachronistic slant
that mantras chant
and sibyls grant
turn off the Switch -
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