The muse has appeared
In the fibers of the mind
Fragmented like parchment
Aged in long-forgotten jars.
Beckoning, it calls;
The androgynous voice
Confuses the senses
And ravages the mind.
What horror awaits you
Who are entitled like nobles
Awaiting their serf-driven demise.
Death is only the beginning.
Cocks and hens have mingled,
Roosting their little chicks
Who have just begun to hatch;
With each birth, death becomes you.
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Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Offline) - Published: July 19th, 2022 17:58
- Comment from author about the poem: I’d be interested in your interpretation as to what this means.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 16
Offline)
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