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The Lake of Lost Waters
©January 3rd 2023, Olan L. Smith
In the loneliest of realms, unknown and murky,
Where angels flutter on ashen wings in live wraiths
Of powder grey and burnish brown. Here the scent
Of sorrow pervades, and blacken flesh signs of sins
Beyond those of mortals. A place where Satan
Dares not plod or pause for fear of ruination,
And his angel fear the acidic rains of mislaid faith.
This land is lower than Hades, a place where the
Burning flames of Gehenna meets the icy chill of
Deepest voids of stars, and flames are forbidden,
A place so alone even the gods have forgotten its
Address out of lack, in the dearth are dense knots.
Strings are the smallest of frozen things, here resides
The Lake of lost Waters. Here, all descends into what
Is known as absolute dwindling, where all is
Stripped away, and is reduced into nothingness. A
Quantum string is a billion times more, and identity
Is removed, for the hoards are departed, yet sin breathes.
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Poems from the Quill, by Olan L. Smith
Poetry"Poems from the Quill" is where I place current works that don't fall into other collections. It is here you will find obscure poems that range from constraint to free-verse. I began this collection as a contest entry, years ago, for what was then t...
