Darkness unites your soul into the slough of ancient antiquities.
Like statues under the gaze of distant minarets,
The marble stone seated under a desert throne,
Takes form before you in immortal autocracy.
Darkness consumes your mortal being,
Into the hedgerows of pollen springs.
Like pawns to a angel tree,
The wings of prayer you sent for,
Come hither to wrap you in their daily meditation.
Darkness endures your soul-destroying matter,
Into the base camp mind-set of lesser trivia.
Chessboard pieces moved around by the sinful words of false prophets,
Like giant temples built by Persian screams,
Greeks own men offer the blood of Spartan kings.
These prophecies where encountered by the legions of Rome,
To be the orators of damned gladiators from Constantia herself.
A contest entry
- Going for the Gold (PWs ONLY) by Intricate Wordsmith.
600 points, ended November 19, 93 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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Bravo
A plethora of imagery and metaphor eerily reminiscent of Nostradamus NICE!
Howard
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wow...
my awe for this poeam has no words... it's amazing!! i love the use of greek refrences (being me i would^.^) and especially the chessboard refrence. this poem is amazing, looks like something i'd write... except like a million times better defintly a new favorite by you, death!!!
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