Saturn sings a simple, solemn, resonating song.
Her heresy hangs hypocrites in her aphelion.
Vigilant and versed, no vagueness in her vitriol,
concede or be crushed, caved and cradled to oblivion.
It turns the tyrant and the triad into tattered tokens.
Remedies all rendered rage and routs radical notions.
She mends and mauls so masterfully - matron, mother and more,
all astral lights align in ancient atrium of lore.
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Author:
Quemis (
Offline) - Published: April 8th, 2017 13:55
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 44
Offline)
Comments4
Can I alliterate a lot in aspiring to appreciate this aration (oration)? Doh! Nope, I can't match your poem. Only if I have too many sherries, then every word ends in 'ish'! heehee.
: P : )
Great job with the words. Just seem to roll and flow so well!
Thanks!
It's pretty rare to see a poem with so much alliteration. This is great!
Thanks!
nice
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