NaPoWriMo – Day 18 – a day late

(Using the prompt from day 19 at http://www.napowrimo.net, I took on the task of writing an opposite poem. My sincerest apologies to Shelley whose original work is included following my attempt at an opposite poem.)

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Brass lock of the desert of laughter,

Where the body thirsts till the heart is serene;

Hardest life of minimal valor,

Where their father, Apathy, like an agitated teen,

Is standing awake in sand.

——

A Fragment: To Music

Silver key of the fountain of tears,
Where the spirit drinks till the brain is wild;
Softest grave of a thousand fears,
Where their mother, Care, like a drowsy child,
Is laid asleep in flowers.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

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