Part I
Trouble me not with trifles small, those of little mean.Whenst thou art dismayed by petty troubles of Realm Synthetica, I be'st trapped by the guise of mine own skin. For whence I walk and those alike, ne'er shall freely walk.
Part II
The manners lacking, displayed, so evident. By genders both, ages even older than should be. Thespians, poets of their own and poets, thespians. Both lost in time, their reign-to-end hath already come. To watch despaired as kith and kin do fade, ephemeral. Power Naught to halt the March of Time, inexorable.
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Author:
The Pearl Poet (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: June 10th, 2016 00:09
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 59
Offline)
Comments1
WELCOME PP - Lovely poem in style and language of yesteryear ! In the WEST we all live in Realm Synthetica - obsessed witj trivial things of time and sense. People "refuse the muse" and havelittle or no time for the Realm Poetica ! Manners are lacking and even in the UK (Past Realm of Poetical Perfecta !) Thespians find it hard to earn a crust and Poets even harder. Poetic kith & Kin do indeed fade and ephemerise into the March of Time. Thanks for sharing - Yours BRIAN
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