Preface to a Volume Unpublished
To look beyond these verses
would be to search in vain.
They’re no more than crafted curses,
the distillate of pain.
They bear a name, with reason:
they imprecate a night,
whom the sun of treason
laid waste like a blight.
***
would be to search in vain.
They’re no more than crafted curses,
the distillate of pain.
They bear a name, with reason:
they imprecate a night,
whom the sun of treason
laid waste like a blight.
***
Labels: poetry
Selected by SPECKLED_BAND |
07:13 |
2 Comments:
As always, a masterful work of perfect poetry!
if that's the preface, i'd like to see the volume :)
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