As aching souls lament for wasted years
And strangers, seen as monsters carve the dark
An angel doth descend to purge theirs tears
And bless with such a blossoming remark
Too modest for a Goddess, there she stands
With eyes that dance like such a lambent flame
To empathise, and reach with outstretched hands
To those that brim with pain, with hurt, with blame
She purifies corruption with a glance
Of sympathy, that’s so ignites my life
Her mastery of words, a silken dance
A wit to match the sharpest silver knife
Perfection caged in mere mortality
To put us first, her divine policy
Report a Policy Violation
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Comments
I personally love the first stanza and the last. They are well done. I like the light rhyme of mortality and policy---for my pronunciation it's light
good job
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Time must flow on, its better to go with it than against it.
are you serious.....just push the damn button.
On the subject of returning to poetry, I, too, should concentrate more on my own poetry.
Good job, my friend.
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'A picture paints a thousand words. My words paint a thousand pictures.'- A Wise Fool
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Cruciatus Animus, Pius Vates
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Cruciatus Animus, Pius Vates
great poem
u have a way with words that is just unbelievable!
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Life is short, do whatever you like
The first stanza, third line. Is it supposed to theirs tears? or their tears?
Great job once again.
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If you're here to give me misery, please, take a number..
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Cruciatus Animus, Pius Vates
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