Contour of Blogging Poetry

Subtle as it is to be
amidst a chorus of litany
something unusual haunting
like a carousel of joy but fainting
within a careless hype:
The desire is never before known
neither yet to be known
but the experience is so unique,
rarely held but surely cleaved.
None of it was reality
but it conquers the heart
to sudden death!
What it may be at odds
the ebbs tried to falter like a melody
but the song remained unsung
by those that do not sing
but uttered by those who sung.
Illusion as it may be known
but not to an extent beyond
the imagination of what is reality!

Oh this cool lonely road to nowhere
heave a trapping underneath my skin
it shooves no wrinkle upon rocky thorns
like bluish armament in subtle aims.

Oh this cool lonely trail to nowhere
brings up my feet in tracking still
my feet have anchored so much pain
in place of anger over the chain.

Oh this cool lonely path to nowhere
I see better than a sublime walk upon it
neither the hallowed ground can make a trail
to a lonely man like me walking in ambush keel.

See, within a carousel of fleshy bellows
The spirit within pounds a thousand heart:
Forgetting the established principles learned
Just to satisfy an ember of curiosity;
As many things was just of earrings reach
In the gallows of pureness and serendipity.
The sensations was so subtle but erratic
While the conscience requires to quit the desire
The flesh commands a strong urge to push through.
And the course wind up something so unpalatable
Within the perforation of somewhat elegant sense
As the fleshy urge creep up above the limitations!
And deep within this insurmountable desires
Everything in me was overwhelmed by its enticings.
It was never before an event, much of flirtations
Neither was it a clogged eloquent banterings
As the sensation enveloped me into a pit
Which I know was largely dark and fiery.
All that I can utter was sorry...
And repentance was neither a gift
Nor a freely bargain after committing a sin.
And I know that punishment is about to gain
A rudely pain of my own wickedness...
A lonely walk back to the long path of return
To expect an unwavering amnesty from the Lord above.
A long road that tersely invite a wave of lonely hand
Waiting a hug from those who were caring
For I now know the price of curiosity begets pain
And everything of it kills the worthiness
Of long ago...but now a base of iniquities.