This is an old poem that I found lying around unfinished. I decided that it was high time to finish it and here's the end result.. Now, I only ask for TWO things: 1.) for you to share your understanding of the poem and; 2.) criticize it. Please? ^_^ Thank you.Archivists Farce
Wisps of smoke sucked into a vortex
cloud the mind of an anxious complex.
Being of body, form and frame,
a figure cracked impassive to fame.
Chaos emulated on a grotesque outfit.
Riot embedded on black skirts; scarlet alphabet
twist metaphors and cut the mind with halting wit
on a warped strain of a string quartet.
Ancient scripts' articulated tragedies
befell on to the innocent's guilty lies.
Nominal diction contend Dantesque allegories -
a trait false gods and idols struggle to personify.
Conflict with the demons redeemed this soul gone astray.
Genuine hounds direct back the real path of mischief
as blessings in disguise curse the wicked influence the way
devils, imps and fiends plague the diffident and ill at ease.