The forbidden chalice

Carmine Branco



The darkness comes once more

to the land of restless souls.

As my eyes gaze into the black

quilt of night, my memory, forsaken

evermore, shivers as the breathe

of the heeded chant of time

discloses another door.

I sing to my shattered heart

a weeping lullaby. 

I morn the shreds of tortured skin

to whom, one day, with sour regret,

I will have to wave goodbye.

A pawn I've been 

in an endless game of creation's

joke and throttle,

for I have not lived,

I say, my youth of years,

but still I will have to die.

So to Pleasures I have not known

I wish to raise a plentiful  chalice;

to put my lips on that forbidden wine

and savour all its poison.

Oh, You that read and shake your head

with blush and disapproval,

don't judge me vile or libertine,

for day by day your life

is ending and your flesh and beauty

are being dismantled.

And you will blemish with every sunset

and, for so, become futile. 

That day will come, for it is now tomorrow,

and you will be, like me, startled

by that pitch black night,

so thick and enduring

of regret and endless sorrow.

 

 

 

  • Author: Carmine Branco (Offline Offline)
  • Published: October 27th, 2017 18:51
  • Comment from author about the poem: We are born: we cry, we grow, we learn, we feel, we see, we laugh, we suffer, we cry, we love,we hate. We are told what's right and what's wrong. We are social. We convene to what our society tells us is allowed and forbidden. We make choices: some right, some wrong. We are honoured or punished, all based on collective conventions. We united, we divide, we reproduce or we don't. Will it be right or wrong, it will always be judged by rules or customs or culture. We are part of a race or another. We are of a colour or another; we have a faith or another or we don't. We branded by choices or tendencies. We work, we sacrifice or we live in selfishness. We have much or we have little or even barely enough or nothing at all. It looks like this message will never end, but here it comes. you grow old or your stuck down in the prime of your life. What has happened to all the time, places and things we've done or seen? Was it that long or was it yesterday? What have you got left? I've got news for all of US: It's over. Time, our time, has ended. It ended from your first heartbeat and it will not come back again. At least not in the same way. Carpe Diem! Seize the day! Enjoy and be joy for others. Do no harm, but enjoy to the fullest every drop of time you are give, for one day we shall be no more.
  • Category: Reflection
  • Views: 57
  • Users favorite of this poem: Carmine Branco
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors




To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.