The Thrill Merchants

Chance’s appeal crushes men’s aging flesh
Her smell is the sweetest, juicy peach …
Her starry appeal inspires envy …
Her appearance, bliss!
But her price can be … Ah! The end!

Speed is her rush’d and brazen temptress
She’s always dressed in lacey red to kill,
Let fly, let rip, let go yourself … become the rush!
Then perhaps, she’ll give you too a chilling thrill -
Until Father Death says, of course, “That’s Enough!”

Men flying over every unconquered hill …
They aspire to mock heaven-tipped hawks -
“Live not in Tedium: it is the true st prison,“
But love is the only perpetual masterpiece,
That’ll earn you feathery-wooed angel’s wings.

Aloof in immortal thoughts, they shine -
Flying to ridicule confident birds, they glisten -
Delightfully glimmering, they mimic the bald eagle …
Then they hiccup, they burp, they oft rebel …
But eventually, they learn meandering themes.

Time tutors and stirs us hilariously within,
It is judged by our merchants impulsive charm …
History advises lonely men to fight insipid hours -
But faith is the only timeless masterpiece,
That will silence a human scream.

Canaries singing on a protruding windowsill
Men leaping over every bumpy, unconquered hill …
Lets drink to celebrate our boisterous years,
Then we’ll blush! Ah! Eh! Ah! My learn’d friends!
Enlightenment begins wisdom at madness’ end …

(I already had this ending, so I changed it)
Hush! Hush! Enlightenment is not the end …

Copyright . ShyPoet1 AKA Jimmy L. Holder and may not be reproduced or copied without permission.

be reproduced or copied without permission.