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Poem

You rise above me on your lofty pedestal
Cracking your razored whip
Ordering my possibilities
Leaving your intricate patterns on my back
Red lace adorns your masterpiece

I chip at the base of your column
Choosing for your mighty to fall
You are unaware of your teetering 
Cracks adorn your insignificance
Your monument betrays you
True power lays waste to your beliefs
The bottom always determines what stays on top

Look into these eyes
See past your own disaster
My power resides within my compassion
I do not wish to rule your castle
Freedom lives beyond your gates

I was not born to be your enemy
Hate does not flow through these veins
Justice shall not be served by my blade
You instead scurry to the top of your rubble
Impale yourself with rusted sword
Fleeing your own salvation
You answer your ghosts
Delivered by you own injustice
No one left to mourn your passing
You believed you could go no lower
Unaware Hell would embrace you in serpent arms
After all you descended from your father
A fallen angel has no where else to fall


Verlena S. Walker's Slam Round 2 contest.

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