Deus: An Epilogue
Capitulating to the wild, random and fickle.
Sigils weaved from nothing, we digest,
divide amongst our kin,
our hands stiffened and hastily fragmented,
our eyes on the sun,
we are all wrapped in cellophane,
falling in place, as the holy crown for man, our Lord and Savior.
Man forbid thou escape his grip today!
Even so, he will surely find thee later.
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
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
