Worshipers At the Mountains of Madness
Worshippers at the Mountains of Madness
Worshipers at the Mountains of Madness
zealots seeking kinship of distant god
await the searing wind of cold duress
tattered clothe - torn robe - beggars now unshod
clutch thinning air in folded hands of doubt
beseeching of the peaks the madness there
blind seekers panning gold - veins long run out
follow deep crevasse of lingering fear.
Yet, lost amid frigid glistening peak
resides a hidden truth as yet unthawed
that they must coax the frozen voice to speak
and listen to its truth however flawed.
Cold peaks, those bell-less towers, should incite
rebellion in the eyes awakened sight.
5/17/2016
submitted to – At the Mountains of Madness – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Timothy Hicks
Copyright © John Lawless | Year Posted 2016
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