You must login to vote
Some sins are too beautiful not to commit;
If I could fall like Achilles,
Icarus, or Sisyphus,
In ways deamed appropriate by the masters
And petrified with time
In ironic grace and frightening beauty,
I would foster my fatal flaw.
To make failure a choice,
You must choose wisely
Amongst the thorns of the multifoliate rose,
And the shards of a shattered Pandora's box
Or else find your fatal flight ends
As a broken bird; a beaten, lifeless,
Feathered lump, spattered in colors that speak
Rather than preserved in pages of parchment
Eternally immortalized as a scene of tragic beauty;
The moral to the story,
Clean of all dirty details of daily living.
It is the envy of ending that endures
The empty's effortless existences.
She falls softly down from towering pedastools...