Monasteries of Old
Rooms of self-imprisonment
Against Spiritual Impairment;
Castles like centuries-soaked Mountain,
To a type of knowledge The Fountain.
One a bit crazy to look at them long
Or on their account assemble a song.
Religious Repositories of Old
By one neared when one is bold;
A great wonder they did finally fold
And now in touching stories told …
Perhaps, something to do with veiled crime
Against them held by Record-Keeping-Time
Or in their inner rooms Defiling Gambling
By Monks who saw through every card play;
Maybe on their premises a rambling
By The Wizened sorting out things they hard way.
Copyright © Chinedum Ekwobi | Year Posted 2022
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