Lost was I
In caustic tides
My very boat, a coffin – ides
Of spring became the offered lie
I chose to cling
For those who sing
Their siren song of chosen kings
Would often plie
With loss and lie
And see me simply tossed aside to swing

Within a noose
Of thin abuse
As if a neck, so any use
Was lost as oft as any truce
For every cost
I came across
Was little more than shame and dross
Upon a puce
Lament of views
Where all I seem equipped to choose is loss

From gentle hands
That bent demands
As often as they swept the sands
Atop a grave where missives swam
For what they gave
Was but a cave
But never light for that would save
So there I stand
To thus remand
And wander with this fading brand enslaved


2 thoughts on “Meleager

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.