Canticles of a Withering Soul: Part I
Canto I: The Wicked
______
Wither and tremble awash at sea oh woe
Woe is he, terror from sights even blessed would flee
Serenades of night washed over him into the wrong
Dark tides so high and undertow pulls so strong
Wither
Wicked winds have sailed across miles of endless plains
Plain to see, evil sinews and dew drops of pain
Inward he looks as the tattered sails curtain calls
The life of a tired man, broken as he flails
Wicked
Cursed as sapphire seraphs twinkle above his eyes, singing the praise
Of others lies and curse the moon to spite the days
The sun won't rise over the horizon in this void place
His soul set a son loose to save his faltered grace
Cursed
My heart bleeds for this celestial stranger, so damned
He is, he roams to hell for heaven's sake'n lamb
The fades of glory shot to hell long before he sailed
His ship over capricious waters... Folly.. he wailed
Bleeds
Dark and daggers in his back, the volley of attack so
Righteously planned, furious anger rage in pit of soul
Row your damned boat man, get out and push
Spit down from a friend so high who has a flush
Dark
Canto II: The Game
_______________
Life has its ways, terra-firma holds its gaze
Keeping us down in earthly ways
Hold us soft in tender melancholy
Cut us deep in winter day follies
His ship hit land and he fell in
Sand dragged him down again
Bags tied to his corporeal feet
To ensure his heavenly defeat
He played their game and he lost
The sand smothers lung and frosts
Over and over a withering soul
Sold it again for hope to climb pole
This was it, this was the last denial
As the gasp was let out to defile
His enemies and poisonous snakes
Hold still, the bite is at stake
The venom entered his veins and he writhed...
Canto III: Retribution
_________________
Withered soul sing loud
Retribution is coming
Rebirth is freedom
Afterlife glows bright
Coming out of dried sands
Water and soul then
He burst free singing
Tread softly over deserts grain
Knife at the ready
Canto IV: The Kill
_____________
Free
To stab
Their open backs
Desire to twist
The blade cuts deep and blood runs out quickly
Sap of the God's he breathes deeply sickly
Desired more cuts
Wounds in them
Bleeding
Out
Copyright © Tim B | Year Posted 2012
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment