She’ll lure you, entice

with promises of wealth,

and no want.

She feigns plenteousness

while stealing a breath each day;

her veins, jaundiced.



Will you follow her to the ends of the earth—

seek Shiny Dawn,

though each morning reveals

a dusty dream?

Flecks of gold rest on your pillow

crushed by the heady weight of pursuit.


Rare, aesthetic beauty,

she is.

Eke out your fortune by tracing the veins

in hand.

Her blood does not corrode

but you

will chip away your life


clinging to the walls.

©Prasanta, May 2016


Written for the Tweetspeak Poetry Prompt – click here to read more.