THE UNSUNG SONG
Abandoned where aleatory fates immerse,
Exiled in the Whirlpool of Death we face,
Transcending a vanishing star's lost grace,
Leaving sanguine possibilities, a Time we curse,
Mirroring a microcosm of history in verse.
Perhaps in reaction, or rebellion, a world is born:
A world mirrored, where whims hold sway,
A candle's flame, twice bright, burns half its day,
Besotting fiction’s staple, known and long,
Dancing to its own drummer's vibrant song,
Problems, unpassported, its throng banish away.
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.
