'Twas drowned in wretched poison, the likes of which forsake
goodness, love, a smile, the dove, euphoria once 'spake.
As Eve was tempted by Angel downed, Adam repeated the mistake
the serpent slithers, cinders and splinters, he found him burning at the stake.
Akin to seraphim yet cast, below the boundaries high
a fallen angel knows what was, but lives beneath the sky.
Eternally an enemy to all who seek to fly
bereft of joy but steeped in woe without conviction 'nough to cry.
Oppressed, offended, oblique in worth, askew of proper form
as if to say the laws of man held sway 'pon once were wings, now shorn.
Comfort lies, its bound by fear, change would yield a glut of scorn
convinced its purpose fled with stature, silently he mourns.
Solace is some years away, "comrade" Death will chide
"come upon my gondola to cross to the other side".
"Why wait? I'll simply end it now, the river Styx is far too wide
overboard and overwhelmed, in these dark currents from life I'll hide".
I've drowned in wretched poison, with gills! Irony wins!
I breathe and respire, blood thick with ire, slave to all my sins.
Despite time's endless passage, the miasma never thins,
I stagger about in boundless limbo, my thread, Fate eagerly spins.
© 2007 Danj3ris



