Decipher the Truth

 

 

City of parallel lies
with masks, twitches unheard
an intrusion of insects into the skin
the air is eerie.
scratch the masks people,
peel off the under skin
to see blueberries hanging
from your forehead.

In the serene morphic undistilled
waters,
inhale the dewy poetry.
The poetry that lies
inside the innocuous flesh.
The star consumes and spreads the beam.

© My Valiant Soul


 

Beauty

 

Image result for illustrations
image credits- Kelly Smith

 

i peel off my orange skin,
there is a black spot
like the dust of an ebb.

in the soils, i see mundane butterflies
can beauty be insipid?

so what about the moon?
i know, you will say it has the insane spot.
so, why do people sprinkle beauty?
if beauty can be foul.

                                         ©My Valiant Soul

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Thanks to the Editor!