Monday, April 07, 2014

A Poem Draft

Still very rough, and probably in need of a stanza or two more.


At night I called your name;
it flickered like a flame.
The burning spread,
swiftly red,
a battlefield on which the gods had bled.

As fury rose on high,
its glory touched bright sky;
it dimmed the stars
where angels are
with cast of shade and cinnabar.

1 comment:

No anonymity (but consistent pseudonyms allowed). Abusive comments, especially directed toward other commenters, will be deleted; abusive commenters will be hunted down and shot. By posting a comment you agree to these terms and conditions.

Please understand that this weblog runs on a third-party comment system, not on Blogger's comment system. If you have come by way of a mobile device and can see this message, you may have landed on the Blogger comment page; your comments will only be shown on this page and not on the page most people will see, and it is much more likely that your comment will be missed (although I do occasionally check to make sure that no comments are being overlooked).