A Wild Thing of Creation, Caged
The fig tree
was our rotunda,
the roots valleys
leading to our kingdom
not fifty feet away
a concrete range
bridged worlds,
and stood silently, sullen
our very own
mountain of doom
fearsome as knights and maids
we traversed cement battlements
I crossed on the Styx,
the other world moved
like a slithering mass of parasites
ever closing in on our seat of power
shimmers of time shivered the river,
as the monster of madness
split the surface
an almighty bellow,
‘get the hell home
for dinner’
my brother,
a Caesar ruled
and was slaughtered
by his own,
me caged and fed
like a wild thing
by mine
Copyright © Jayne Eggins | Year Posted 2010
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