25 --Tina's Predicament--

~P-R-E-D-I-C-A-M-E-N-T~
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White freezing velvet coat,
Engulfed with gratified forlornly.

Black Swirling forgotten past,
Engulfed with anonymous obscurities.

Clear Perfect sense of colours in deception,
Underneath which lies relflected sense of certainty.

Is reality in fact fantasy?
Is fantasy in fact veracity?

Though through the uncanny replicational corollary,
Too, dulls the perfect perception of deceiving acuity.

Oh, who holds the key to utmost salvation?

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"I tore myself away from the safe comfort of certainties through my love for truth; and truth rewarded me"

PS: Another of kaz's poemic crap!! =p