Quemis

Aphelion

I find I pity mercury,
Who forever is flung
So quickly back, out into naught
Before his song is sung. 

His eloquence is epic.
His rhyme is round and rose;
But his orbit is ovaline,
And Sol can't hear the prose.

She radiates so brilliantly;
He aches to riddle praise;
And through this exact eagerness,
Limits their singing days.

Cursed by a dance elliptic,
And cold aphelion;
Mercury when will you learn?
Accept oblivion? 

  • Author: Quemis (Offline Offline)
  • Published: July 2nd, 2022 21:05
  • Comment from author about the poem: ...
  • Category: Unclassified
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