The drums no longer speed at sight,
As if in shock:
Apollo lost his sun,
And Andromeda's cries of woe echo in sullen rock.
I shout in vain:
Clawed trails of petals in wake of a hero's breathless resurgence.
Surge of victorious glory in a solemn prayer for your beaming lights
That trail sinful shadows in tangled delights
— immortalized, manic, marbled memories.
Like sleep to the dying,
A breath to the flying,
I gleam the strength of the drying
In statuettes
and silhouettes:
I should have looked through the reflection,
Concocted a deflection;
Now all I ache for is
More
More
More
Til I've turned to stone.
YOU ARE READING
drown the stars
Poetry❝ just like relativity, we are only a theory ❞ • amateur writings of golden poetry • [cover by @antigravitea]
