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Caitlin Fisher Oct 2014
Crumbling stone towers
And withering flowers
Stormy skies
Breaking my trust with all their lies

Racing through the Forum roads
With every breathing second breaking their code

Codes of ruling and giving
And living and loving

Black shadows with silvery daggers
Around my crimson lover, who staggers
His golden laurel crown
Clashes and clangs as it falls to the ground

How many throats have they slit?
Or poisons given?
Or pushed strong men past the bounds of heaven?

To dark and shadowy and desolate lands
Where light flys fleeting from open hands

It pains me now as I hear him scream
With an unearthliness that sounds like a dream
A horrible dream where things are
Nothing as they seem

His beautiful starry purple robes
Fall between the Tiber and a thorny rose

Yet somehow even as I see them make their mark
I believe in nothing but the beating of his heart
eighth grade was very much a poetry driven year, apparently
Judgson blessing Jul 2015
Be all and good but in ancient wood carving .
henceforth hang it if you pretend a new reviving .
oh, i know you may not laugh openly .
if its not the common alluring of society .
its marked already , you will think how they once done it .
and your dream is the firmament of dull old hulk conceit .
but you , you never whispered all time due a hint .
aught ,you will drag along the ramification of what others mint .
its not for the cause or how its dread to be dried sapling .
nay , your originality of colors its what is faintly retiring .
' Man of Men ' what story do you behold for proof ?
cynosure , but the aurora of ancient mound and Petra .
i know you will write if you have found the old dream as roof .
clockwise , no objection cause wanton will recollect the gloom era .
dont talk lest rave , of telling you Achilles slain Hector .
but never try to hint a command till you hear your facilitator  .
put your robe all over your face and let the brand shine as a secret .
hereditary , from your dream all thing will gush and no deject .
you cant be knave nor a drudge cause you put on the national crow .
and set aloud the secret rampant hag , its truly the antique best row .
oh , why , the truth ? they know it already so do confine with it .
all the commons have learned  the universal prejudice as holy lit .
comrade you drag up to Gladiator combat then tell us what we expect .
evil should it be if you dont know Grecian's myth in all aspect .
but clad yourself as symbolist or imagist with Elagabalus or raven .
though let your poetry be past Zeus carving in austere glen .
but be hell wit it if you think that you doubt about Phocion .
but be all and good , metaphysics , symbolism , are holy glorification .

— The End —