Caligula

Lorenz

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 ? ''

  

Comments +

Comments3

  • sorenbarrett

    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

    • Lorenz

      What inner turmoil this lucid madness brings !

      • sorenbarrett

        I can only imagine

      • Ellen Marsell

        A true psychological fresco painted in tones of madness, grandeur, and existential deadlock.

        • Lorenz

          The complex humanity of the individual deserves attention beyond the clinical realm...

        • Tristan Robert Lange

          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. Thereโ€™s a dark operatic intensity running through every line. Powerful work, my friend. ๐ŸŒน๐Ÿ–ค๐Ÿ™๐Ÿ•ฏ๏ธ๐Ÿฆโ€โฌ›

          • Lorenz

            The tragedy of power in the grotesque nakedness of the human condition.



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