Falling From the Heights
FALLING FROM THE HEIGHTS
Who knew the road would fill with gravel’s pain?
My feet, sore bare, beneath the calloused peat.
The sun beat hard, no friend the serpent’s bane.
Fate’s sweat does drip, with chains, the dark complete.
The street does twist and wretch, the cliffs enormous.
The vertiginous heights of panic feeze.
Unpaid regret, ill storm felt ginormous.
Unholiness does creep upon my knees.
Good pleasure pled, my youth to harken please,
whilst time did serve the stench of gargoyled feet.
And greening eyes would steal the gold, and seize
the king’s pure daughter, then his regal seat.
The plummet ferocious does tear my skin.
The dirgelike wind does moan and fleece my sin.
3/8/2018
bane - woe, curse, destruction
feeze - a state of alarm or excitement
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