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Oct 28, 2006, 08:40 PM // 20:40
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Ascalonian Squire
Join Date: Oct 2006
Location: Canada
Guild: Lusus Naturae
Profession: N/Me
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A Mesmeric Mask.
This is the next poem in an unnamed series of poems. The aim of these poems that I am writing are, what I hope, creations that will properly capture the essence of a given profession. If you think I captured the Mesmer well, please do not hesitate to say so. Comments are the currency which I use to spend on my creativity.
A Mesmeric Mask. A purple bauble, wreathed in light, A thing of beauty to burden the senses, A thing to confuse and guide forward and backward Tinkering thoughts are troubled, Bruised hands are tied, Lips gape in awe. She is a thing of beauty, isn't she? But watch now, for she displaces the mask of her god, And beneath lies the second face. The face to face the faceless conjurer of time's keeper. The face that faces the mask of the Mesmer. |
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