Holy, holy, holy,
Saints without sin—
Heaven almighty—
No one else gets in.
To pass the gate
Sell your own soul.
It’s never too late,
Bore out that hole.
Keep real quiet—
Head on a platter—
No voice, no riot.
All else won’t matter.
© 2026 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.
First published on tristanrobertlange.com, January ??, 2026.
Tittu
-
Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Offline) - Published: February 5th, 2026 07:45
- Comment from author about the poem: I’m published in an anthology featuring authors from across the Poconos, PA. All proceeds benefit the Pocono Liars Club — a collective of authors and editors dedicated to supporting and mentoring local writers. Available in paperback and Kindle, please consider purchasing one and supporting a great cause. https://a.co/d/58uxM69
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 1
Offline)
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.