Oh how well your Crown of Ignorance,
sits upon your feathered brow;
Hammered of your fear, your arrogance,
crusted in your shame;
In sanguine glow, it gleams surreal,
violence in your eyes.
Long ago you drew the curtains,
you staunched out the light;
Now upon your tower gloried,
your face is old and wrinkled: Hoary;
Without the light your eyes have greyed,
myopic, pale and glassy.
Can you see your fields of valor,
through your old and leather pallor?
Do you know the costs, the losses
Of your Holy Wars?
The curtains shut, he can't understand.
Comments
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Great imagery and metaphors. There're a lot of meanings you can take from this, though I'm not sure which you were intending. I like how every time I read it I notice something else. It's good, I like it
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Im sorry this poem is not 30 lines as I have required so i must DQ you from the contest. This is a great poem though
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I loved the imagery here as well as the message. It is general enough to apply to any governing authority. Nicely done.
John
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