poetry

                          a flourish            

 A nauseous knell peal and bark in my kidney,
a hourglass  pull up half of my age,
 my pathetic fingers float in mud,
and I hear a nebulous jeer from hawk,but

     My thumb and middle swim in mud to create flourish,
      a colt dwell in thumb  and flow in colorless paper, 
     without mushy, gripe, and pule,
     but it will be capture of a flourish.
     
     
CREATED BY SYARIFAH NAZIRA AL-MAHDALY