Dashes of Dickinson

How sinister to produce a fiend,

That comes pouncing from within.

It cowers in the shadow,

Exploiting mortal sin.

The question of its rational,

Laughs slightly in its tone.

It's blatant and irrational-

Its innocence unknown.

The essence of its rational 

Alludes all conscience thought-

It enters with a fragrance

That is divided and distraught.

Unwillingly it grows inside-

Distributes evenly-

Defeated by the realization,

That what will be will be.

Author's Note

I am not a big title person and so with much hesitation I add this title.

Reviews

[quinfinn]

very , very Dickinsonian indeed, cleverly written and delightful to read. i think this type of poetry is one of the most endearing to me, yeh...this will definitely work!