Notes About The Poem

Ars longa, vita brevis”—Horace (65 BC - 8 BC)

Brazen Lines By An Outwardly Pompous Poet



If the sin of pride is my condign curse;
then I own it, and I can do no worse.
If the world disdains me, not saying why;
then I can stand it, though I want to die.

Outcast for good, alone for evermore,
as souls recoil, ne'er to enter my door. 
Because of pride, I'm kept from the Lord's light;  
lost, I curse Heaven with all of my might!   

(Too bad if some don't recognize my genius; 
but know, great souls believe in their greatness.
So spite this world if I'm damned any longer,   
for the burden of brilliance makes me stronger!)
Copyright © | Year Posted 2022

Poem

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