In my dreams I defy the sea.
Dragging its remains from the depths.
I share my bed with a lunar mistress.
Running my feverish fingers
over her throbbing neck
which my whim will sever...
There is salvation only in chaos
and enlightenment of madness...
But isn't dementia a cure
for the world's disorders ?
Tyrants born to be torn
by the crowd's hysteria.
Curse chronicle of the caesars...
I am Caius the good who grands
forgiveness to the dead !
A rotten seed adorns me
with the lust of Venus .
Perversion is the price one must pay
for the serpent's seduction ...
Drusilla ,my sister I stole your burning scent.
The sound of your wet moans
clings to my body like a pleasure trapped
in quicklime that rekindles desire ...
I am Caius the child with guilty eyes
object sacrified to god's orgies ...
My lunacy was to rebel against
the absurdity of fate which made
me a prince ...
And my crime was believing in the actor
within me that you were unable to love...
I offer myself naked to the swords.
Strike my shadow dwarves !
Hatred purifies ! Hatred sanctifies !
My name will be erased from the marble .
I will remains nothing more than this wretch
wearing a poor pair of cothurnus...
''Does power drive you mad ?
or do you have to be mad to declare war on the waves ? ''
-
Author:
lorenz (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: May 27th, 2026 11:05
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 9
- Users favorite of this poem: Ellen Marsell, Tristan Robert Lange

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Comments3
Indeed a well thought out write of historical tribute to a man that got a bad wrap and like Judas carries history's wrath and scorn. Well done Lorenz
What inner turmoil this lucid madness brings !
I can only imagine
A true psychological fresco painted in tones of madness, grandeur, and existential deadlock.
The complex humanity of the individual deserves attention beyond the clinical realm...
Lorenz, this is feverish, theatrical, and deeply unsettling in a way that completely fits the voice of Caligula. The poem feels less like historical portraiture and more like stepping directly into the fractured psyche of power, madness, desire, and self-destruction. Thereโs a dark operatic intensity running through every line. Powerful work, my friend. ๐น๐ค๐๐ฏ๏ธ๐ฆโโฌ
The tragedy of power in the grotesque nakedness of the human condition.
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