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michael-p-toddPoems
Borne upon that midnight lost in longing— Though lost in naught--its own desire-- Forever flung into a maddening dream-- One so forever sought by men thronging At the insidious pearls--Paradise Hearth. Damnable desire in all purest gait-- A god in my hands, war upon the gate. Those upon the highest choir--whom we all forsake, Know this man--alighted in his doom. For even as the stars weave their tainted webs We, the God Kings of memories long lost-- Shall ever be forgot.
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Sep 2, 2010
Sep 2, 2010 at 4:33 PM UTC
Borne upon that midnight lost in longing—
Borne upon that midnight lost in longing— Though lost in naught--its own desire-- Forever flung into a maddening dream-- One so forever sought by men thronging At the insidious pearls--Paradise Hearth. Damnable desire in all purest gait-- A god in my hands, war upon the gate. Those upon the highest choir--whom we all forsake, Know this man--alighted in his doom. For even as the stars weave their tainted webs We, the God Kings of memories long lost-- Shall ever be forgot.
Written by
michael-p-todd
American
Sep 2, 2010
Sep 2, 2010 at 4:33 PM UTC
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