poet shire

poetry blog.

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

jeremiad


"Brutus" passed, has some ages, left in me
convincing me ethics, ascetics and sages
polite policies don't sue the righteousness
anymore, but one luciferious angel entangles
blinding,building my pride over the riches, worthless
swaying me, to and fro,
toying me, he-ho ! kudos.

The slicing and piercings do they really do
and mumble with humble hymn, is it pure?

sadist ascetics, is it true?
spiritual ritual i see down beneath.

And the pyre mourns, flames,flames it pour,
does it scream?, or does it roar?,
come play with me some more.

sigh-neigh, i'm on toe,
bring me some more foes.

Tonight, twilight fasts till dawn casts
some "shadows" in meadows
sweat to become dark in the wrath
of the rider of seven stallion, brilliant,
with his rainbow and raining arrows.
twitch, flicker and vanish while you shiver,
pursuit- pursuit, i'll pursuit, till last of the quiver.

rhyme rhyme goes arrow in row,
blasphemy blasphemy why did thou bestow.

do i die a righteous cause?
when atheist in me pulls over and over its brows.



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