Lepidoptera TristisLepidoptera Tristis5 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Oh, how atrocious Fate must be
To allow this stygian event to pass.
What god would suffer
Such a horrid affair to occur?
As if the loss of our angel,
Whose thread of gold that is life
So ruthlessly severed by the abhorred shears
Of the pallid, relentless Atropos,
Was not punishment enough.
Tell us, oh Holy Father,
With what have we earned this castigation?
What heavy sins of ours incited
This scourging of our hearts and souls?
Where perished Thy love for us,
Whom you created in Thy image?
Why did my sullen butterfly deserve
To emerge from her cocoon of death,
In the form of a demonic spawn
From the darkest pits of Hell?
She should have been at peace,
A sleeping beauty,
Until the trumpets of Judgment day
Disturbed her serene slumber.
That mild and frail being,
That beautiful butterfly,
She should have remained dead,
Left to rest in peace
Until the seventh angel sounds the trumpet,
And awakes her from the nightmare
That is death.
Did that ominous d
Wordcrafter's InsincerityWordcrafter's Insincerity5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Lying is the language of poets, or at least of my own pen,
for try as I might I have no claim to misery.
For every inkdrop of melodrama I fabricate,
somewhere one truly feels it.
I who have never known solitude mourn my state-
elsewhere is borne gracefully (if bitterly) a life alone,
but that life is not mine.
I who have never known wounds of the soul
lament the mere pinprick of unrequited romance-
elsewhere is buried a blade in one's back by beloved hand,
but that back is not mine.
I who have never known hunger beg for nourishment-
elsewhere is carved the outline of ribs in flesh,
moribund skin taut over only bone,
but that body is not mine.
I am a child!
A child weighing my miniscule pain against the great sufferings,
cheating the scales to call them equal.
I am a child in thought and deed, attempting by word to seem wise and aged.
Unwrinkled hands feigning leathery skin and calluses spill these words into existence.
And what an injustice that they can still write!