Domus Hereticorum
Listen to poem:
To you my quondam friend!
I made myself a heretic through the sacrament
Of unearthed and burnt,
Through the enforcement of raucous,
And above all, the magnum crimen of irrational.
As the 5th Earl of imminence… now, I,
I summon the torn faces of rituals,
Born to abuse the necessity, depriving it of
Any valid right! Cleansed through the salvation
In a pious moment, so precise in time of living,
In time of consolation with solace, and valence
Towards unconditional giving and grieving.
I am sentenced (!), potentially, to become
Honourable in my pledge to silenced soul,
And as a friar of reclusion, I deem it probable,
Yet illusory, that the pristine image of self
Becomes a wish of rupture and the determiner
Of good will, in this humble domus hereticorum.
Provisions, inquisitions, admirations, fervent
Beliefs, and infant crevasses of desired, send across,
Send! My message of acceptance and nonchalance,
Bold and pregnant, with reasons of disinterest
Forever, and ever!
Copyright © Hound Of Poetry | Year Posted 2019
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