A sprint of ether gallops
endlessly across this abyssal
plain, kissed by the very lips
of disdain, and licked by the
lecherous ills, those which farse
men into the most evil of stills;
those places where they ferment and
bare the casks of wine, a taste
alluring like a sirens calls, as
misbegotten as Pandora's box, as seemingly
tempting as Aphrodite's stare; sip on
this wine, bore from the very fruits
of despair, yet only in the wood,
only in this place, can anything
of such magnamous wrong ever take shape,
avoid this wood, in your
everyday trecks, its everywhere so please
watch your step, this wood is not a material
place, not one which you'll ever walk, but
venture into when your mind, it stalks, for
the loss of imagination, no dreaming and
scheming, for a better way will lead you
here; when you smell the carrion, and hear
the patters of dooms dance, know where you're
headed Epstemyawa wood, and for your own good
turn back.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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I love your use of internal rhyme, extensive vocabulary, and the underlying dark and weird quality to this haunting piece, which appears to be a cautionary tale of a kind. Great stuff once again!
David
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NICE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Wow, you have some serious vocabulary goin on here! You can sure write a mean poem! lol i'm really impressed. Keep on penning!
POETDONTKNOWIT -
you are a very well read individual thats for sure with a certain mastery of placement and a seemingly endless vocabulary
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A very creative piece. The flow is amazing! Wording and imagery couldn't be better. Great job.
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I really like this Seanny. It's beautiful. It's a unique idea and it's something different from what you've written before. It's nice to see that your drought is over. Your allusions were lovely. I wish I could have a talent like yours--and a mind that can think in such a way that others cannot copy or mirror your talents.
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