deepundergroundpoetry.com
To Destroy The Darkling Night
In magic thick and sweet I step between
Deep fissures, rising crests of bounding light,
Impossible geometry unseen
By human soul before. Like waves, the sight
Of this does chill my core and warm my heart
In sickly ostentation. Such a flight
Of artifice divine! The quick’ning dart
That beauty snares and bids to soar along
Horizons flecked with gold does pierce the art
My mind will keep, to render it so strong
‘Gainst flashing, creeping evil. Shining jaws
Will resonate the righteous, dancing song
And carry me to comfort ‘mid applause –
Their grand cacophony does banish dark
And slith’ring shadow. So it shrieking draws.
I bid farewell to doom and praise the stark
Unquenchable: that morning thirst which slays
And cracks the day in twain, the godly arc
Proclaiming victory above all. Days
Make light of nights, though such is it that black
Is triumph’d! Kissing corners, bright’ning ways
That run and hide and veil their bitter track
Against the onslaught. Conquest! Conquest! Shout
Into the clouds with open throat, that back
The night does go! Success! Success! All doubt
And fear is vanquished. Sweetest sun I smile,
I weep, I grace your rescue – timely, stout,
Above all fearless. Facing such a vile
Ungrateful foe you scream upon the moon
To force your enemy to fall. Guile
Does overcome you not, nor tricks, which strewn
Before you shriek while day and night are hewn.
End.
Deep fissures, rising crests of bounding light,
Impossible geometry unseen
By human soul before. Like waves, the sight
Of this does chill my core and warm my heart
In sickly ostentation. Such a flight
Of artifice divine! The quick’ning dart
That beauty snares and bids to soar along
Horizons flecked with gold does pierce the art
My mind will keep, to render it so strong
‘Gainst flashing, creeping evil. Shining jaws
Will resonate the righteous, dancing song
And carry me to comfort ‘mid applause –
Their grand cacophony does banish dark
And slith’ring shadow. So it shrieking draws.
I bid farewell to doom and praise the stark
Unquenchable: that morning thirst which slays
And cracks the day in twain, the godly arc
Proclaiming victory above all. Days
Make light of nights, though such is it that black
Is triumph’d! Kissing corners, bright’ning ways
That run and hide and veil their bitter track
Against the onslaught. Conquest! Conquest! Shout
Into the clouds with open throat, that back
The night does go! Success! Success! All doubt
And fear is vanquished. Sweetest sun I smile,
I weep, I grace your rescue – timely, stout,
Above all fearless. Facing such a vile
Ungrateful foe you scream upon the moon
To force your enemy to fall. Guile
Does overcome you not, nor tricks, which strewn
Before you shriek while day and night are hewn.
End.
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