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parker-wallisPoems
Days pass like winter winds, But memories of ****** sins Of prisoners mine forever live So long as I shan’t forgive. IN HOC SIGNO VINCES Atop a bench of elm, The throne that rules this realm, I, judge and jury, tread The path of justice dead. IN HOC SIGNO VINCES A soul, grieved and daunted, By malediction haunted, Shall drop before me, praying, Whilst I lean in, saying, IN HOC SIGNO VINCES “He is not I. Silence Your foolish pleas of guidance.” “I beg!” he shall say, “Save me!” “Nay,” I shall say, “no mercy.” IN HOC SIGNO VINCES His penance I shall write, And with eyes blank as night, The soul will gaze, pleading, With eyes he shan’t be needing. IN HOC SIGNO VINCES Their prison is not a cell So solace cannot dwell; Their fate: a wall of stone Where they shall hang alone. IN HOC SIGNO VINCES I shall place his wrists in chains Though I have not the reins To latch his iron locks: He bound himself to the rock. IN HOC SIGNO VINCES With a cry of a thousand woes, A coal black mass of crows Will swarm the soul to feast And eat the morbid beast. IN HOC SIGNO VINCES After which, I shall call; A soul shall approach the wall. He shall gaze upon my empty face Praying for fickle grace. IN HOC SIGNO VINCES Pray as he shall, no salvation Follows recitation, For I alone decide How far from the path he strides. IN HOC SIGNO VINCES
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Nov 9, 2011
Nov 9, 2011 at 5:40 PM UTC
Gavel and Poison
Days pass like winter winds, But memories of ****** sins Of prisoners mine forever live So long as I shan’t forgive. IN HOC SIGNO VINCES Atop a bench of elm, The throne that rules this realm, I, judge and jury, tread The path of justice dead. IN HOC SIGNO VINCES A soul, grieved and daunted, By malediction haunted, Shall drop before me, praying, Whilst I lean in, saying, IN HOC SIGNO VINCES “He is not I. Silence Your foolish pleas of guidance.” “I beg!” he shall say, “Save me!” “Nay,” I shall say, “no mercy.” IN HOC SIGNO VINCES His penance I shall write, And with eyes blank as night, The soul will gaze, pleading, With eyes he shan’t be needing. IN HOC SIGNO VINCES Their prison is not a cell So solace cannot dwell; Their fate: a wall of stone Where they shall hang alone. IN HOC SIGNO VINCES I shall place his wrists in chains Though I have not the reins To latch his iron locks: He bound himself to the rock. IN HOC SIGNO VINCES With a cry of a thousand woes, A coal black mass of crows Will swarm the soul to feast And eat the morbid beast. IN HOC SIGNO VINCES After which, I shall call; A soul shall approach the wall. He shall gaze upon my empty face Praying for fickle grace. IN HOC SIGNO VINCES Pray as he shall, no salvation Follows recitation, For I alone decide How far from the path he strides. IN HOC SIGNO VINCES
Based on the painting "In Hoc Signo Vinces" by Zdzisław Beksiński
parker-wallis
Written by
parker-wallis
American
Nov 9, 2011
Nov 9, 2011 at 5:40 PM UTC
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