deepundergroundpoetry.com
Superbia
What is it to spend the foredays
Obsess with white vellum leaves
Pacified in the ceaseless seraphim
Grenadine wax bears heraldry
Bow tied and stranded to shimmer
Scrawling till sweet satiety dawns
When even the beggar mocks
Thrown by the preach and practice
Above the threshold of his antiquity
The raven’s scores of Old
The skald’s dying breath on the wind
That carries towards the cage beneath my chest
Drown conjecture in wells of black dialect
But the sensation stains my skin
Redder than the fault in the ocean
I could never wipe clean the slate
For I could live forever in a muse
Keep my eyes above the clouds, climbing
To outlive another restless soul
To love that which eludes my lips
Published 18th Mar 2013
| Edited 19th Mar 2013
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 0
reading list entries 0
comments 1
reads 577
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
11th May 2014 9:58pm
I find it interesting when pro's n poemz start out with regurgitated eloquence once heard in the halls of forgotten themes... then end up with Ithis n Ithat.. blah blah blah. Either u can or ...
u cannot try n pretend with words for they expose our inner desires n coldest fears
u cannot try n pretend with words for they expose our inner desires n coldest fears
