Horrible Day

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Abstract

e fingers nimbly skim over the tear drenched pages, smearing you forlornly out of my memory, where I will ordain you to tarry.Horrible Day, you will exist only upon this lifeless parchment, where you can no longer deface the ruins of my behaviour with the conventional standards of propriety.I gave you pneuma, and upon my whim, I’ll shut this book and snuff you out — taking your life — indexing you to confinement within the references of, idée fixe obsession.You perish, exchanging glances, with unrecited introductions.Glorious Day, you dawn!, you will be written upon the folio of my heart, tog

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ether to travel, where I abide with excellence and sojourn with perfection. The utopian horizon’s of visions grand yet charmingly small.Horrible Day, revisit me no longer, for this my solemn oath — I shall with flowery syllabary transfer you out of mind and into lore — ipsum.Upon, infertile vellum, you struggle for unrequited breath, you live no more, but for — I’m of to importance to dally with you further —The ink has run its course…Defiantly yours, La Belle Époche.Copyright ©. <a href="">R Tsambounieri Talarantas</a>. March 6, 2019. All Rights Reserved.</article></body>

Horrible Day

Dear, Horrible Day,

I will with my fragrant blue ink, the colour of my tortured — incarnated mentation,

press you upon the lines of this soulless ledger, amongst the company of many other a horrible day’s,

My delicate fingers nimbly skim over the tear drenched pages, smearing you forlornly out of my memory, where I will ordain you to tarry.

Horrible Day, you will exist only upon this lifeless parchment, where you can no longer deface the ruins of my behaviour with the conventional standards of propriety.

I gave you pneuma, and upon my whim, I’ll shut this book and snuff you out — taking your life — indexing you to confinement within the references of, idée fixe obsession.

You perish, exchanging glances, with unrecited introductions.

Glorious Day, you dawn!, you will be written upon the folio of my heart, together to travel, where I abide with excellence and sojourn with perfection. The utopian horizon’s of visions grand yet charmingly small.

Horrible Day, revisit me no longer, for this my solemn oath — I shall with flowery syllabary transfer you out of mind and into lore — ipsum.

Upon, infertile vellum, you struggle for unrequited breath, you live no more, but for — I’m of to importance to dally with you further —

The ink has run its course…

Defiantly yours, La Belle Époche.