deepundergroundpoetry.com
Beautiful Lyre
I am the prince of principalities
But evil I am not
I am the king of formalities
Yet lies fill my draught
Enter my manor of manners
Abysmal abode
Filled with peaceful planners
Horrors are stowed
My tongue is of the finest silk
Made to be taut
My eyes are like the whitest milk
A soul, surely not
Yes, I have many fiendish friends
A very pleasant lot
And now, here your story ends
I'll enact my master plot
But evil I am not
I am the king of formalities
Yet lies fill my draught
Enter my manor of manners
Abysmal abode
Filled with peaceful planners
Horrors are stowed
My tongue is of the finest silk
Made to be taut
My eyes are like the whitest milk
A soul, surely not
Yes, I have many fiendish friends
A very pleasant lot
And now, here your story ends
I'll enact my master plot
Published 5th Jan 2023
Author's Note
In this poem you will find nothing but contradictions and lies. Talk of splendor, and then retreat. Even the title has a double meaning, and contrast.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 2
reading list entries 0
comments 2
reads 276
Commenting Preference:
The author is looking for friendly feedback.
Anonymous
- Edited 29th May 2023 7:45am
17th Jan 2023 1:01pm
<< post removed >>
Ding ding ding! We have a winner, you hit the nail on the head!
Thanks for the comment, and I'm glad you enjoyed.
Thanks for the comment, and I'm glad you enjoyed.
