Conjoined twins, are life and death,
by Michael Walkerjohn
alas the woe of humanity;
together, neither means one thing,
apart, each is only vanity;
composite blithe Corinthian,
to second thoughts insanity;
geminy bowled between this point,
broken love equals profanity.
Beautiful once to one,
becames so suddenly living ignominy;
falderal, laid base and bald,
soul rhythms long past bigeminy;
delusory proved the words to be,
emotion reiterated postlimity;
chattelism, trusting ruse,
heart in throat, a guttural trigeminy.
Agitation, tumultuousness cubed,
laugh's curse besotted psyche;
muciferously those words so plied,
to open one's seam of Tyche;
suasions, lipped with sordid guile,
love's blinded by lust's lyche;
pirouette around one spun,
true love, bound by foul babiche.
Miseries held within lorn hearts,
abscess one's truth filled urge;
circummure thus that longing,
know what lays beyond time's verge;
living's chance, more than circumstance;
sing not a dying dirge;
resplendence yet seeks nourishment,
again it will emerge.
Life's flavor, holds its taste,
in soul and heart until its ends;
beauty, bares for those who dare,
look to and trust this friend;
sharing grief builds more compassion,
your swan to whet my pen;
excogitations cleave two minds,
your soul, my soul cleanses.