Serius, the Syrian Sorcerer
Serius, Arch Nemisis of such bliss
that you woulodn't know to miss
the beating of your heart inside
or the doors of hades swinging wide
and the gentlest carresses of the dragons tongue
leaving traces of sulphourous flaming nether-dung
'pon your head, though had you read, you'd know
the stygain darkling doors near, creaking woe
serius, enchanting stalwart scoin of royal lineage, going back to hell
from which, i swear, my oldest ansestral memory, is of that day i fell
from heavens trumpt up majesty, through a very vale of tears
to land here among these people, and their many lovely lively fears
an eye i wiped, and without an upward glance
i set about to make the best, of my every chance
to find employers fit for me, apprentise as i was back then
to try to fit in with this crowd, so evil was this race of men
gently, trepidations palpitate, this cavern of flame within my chest
i wandered to and fro, trying my levelest best
to figure out how to compete, with Adams vicious broods
still on my guard, still atremble, they have such moods
to and fro, yet still i go
aworried and afrighted, don't you know
i kneel and pray, to God above, for His grace
trapped in this so beknighted place
often
to and fro, to and fro
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.
