Does the empty sphere
Tell of mans last days
A cleansed earth
Of his evil ways
From murk and shadow
Within a frame
Christs return
In focus came.
Raised fingers
To bless or warn
From the skies
A phrophecy born
Alchemists bowl
A hungered greed
A hidden history
Time which bleeds.
Optic Heavens
Seen by few
Except the artist
In visions brew
Its mystery
A lashing tail
Of foreboding
Within its frame.
-
Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Online) - Published: February 19th, 2026 02:37
- Comment from author about the poem: My take on the painting, hope its ok
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 38
Online)
Comments5
A fine write N. Is that a marble? You still got all yours?! lol.
lost mine a long time ago lol thanks for reading, much appreciated
Lol.
Norman this surreal approach falls well on the art field where it takes the classical and melds it into the modern. Nicely written
most kind, thanking you and as always its much appreciated
You are most welcome Norman
Nicely done.
thanks, much appreciated
What unfathomable depth in that gaze !
correct Lorenz thanks for reading
Fine words Norman about a wonderful artwork.
Andy
thanking you, much appreciated
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.