I stood so tall upon my knees.
I cried not "mercy", I said not "please"
Like Marsyas earnest on his reeds
I sung clear; of my hearts needs.
Against the vain and subtle lyre
I played plain my hearts desire.
And sweet though was the melody
Apollo had the best of me.
The sun shines bright thats new each day.
Where constant moon shines pale and grey.
-
Author:
Jabberwocky (
Offline) - Published: July 17th, 2017 14:00
- Comment from author about the poem: Oops. I changed "lyre" to "reeds", and "desire" to "needs". Marsyas played the reed flute, Apollo the lyre. I'm bad.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 45
Offline)
Comments1
Very good write.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.