Your lollardic murmurings
near Wycliffe-ian whispers
An iota away from faith;
Metaphor to simile and all we can
do is rhyme around our meaning,
grasp at straws and pretensions
heretic on understanding; lost without.
And we are lost not knowing
which we’d like our saviour
to be.
dythelitism will be the death of us.
Author notes
tried to add more, which might have maybe explained this... but none of it helped and none of it worked.
Last line is a little random - but I liked it anyway.
Written August 31st, 2006
What did you think
Comments
-
READ!!
This is a piece one doesn't come across very often: Supreb use of language, filled with depth and wisdom, thought evoking...
I'm so glad i've read this. I've added you to my favs.
best,
rachel -
great
woa, i agree with the first comment, brilliant use of the english language...if its english...^_^
this is a truley great poem youve made here in anycase, you should give yourself some applause for suc an achivement. lol -
nice use of words
awsome and true, to dance in a race where a strait line would be quickest, yet to dance we must, for to win was never our goal. -
Need my dictionary for a few of these words - good to have iut handy. Enjoy these poems that make one think and learn something new.
Adding your comment:
2 old applause
