Mythopoetry

Libellule

 

 

I pen in glyphs of fire and rain,
each line a hymn, every word a stain—
a whispered rite, semitrue, half-lied,
where mortal poet and Apollo collide.

 

Conjuring poems from shattered verse,
I blend both blessing with its curse.
Each metaphor, a mask I then wear,
every simile like honeysuckled air.

 

This parchment trembles truth—
written beyond the bounds of youth.
In every pause, the pantheon sways,
a truth refracts in shadowed phrase.

 

As muses dwell where echoes sleep,
in sacred wounds I dare to keep.
Their voices burn through fingertip—
a silent flame my pen lets slip.

 

So let this mythopoem be
a codex born of archaic mystery—
here not to explain, but only to evoke
this sacred ash, this divine smoke.

  • Author: Libellule (Offline Offline)
  • Published: May 6th, 2025 07:57
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 6
  • Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors


Comments +

Comments1

  • sorenbarrett

    Once again a poem of quality with great classical analysis and mythology. It is a wonderful write



To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.