Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2018
We all have temples
And ruins in ourselves,
Yet I got to be my own devil.

Full of fatal advice
Was the altar in cold Styx
I set myself upon.

(I, a princess perished afterwards.)

But with these meager, mortal eyes,
Had I ever seen anything so terrific
As the face of a god?

Thunder roared.
Fiery heart.
Fever in my palms.

(I, a goddess of madness now.)
Mar 2017
Written by
Elicia Hurst
     Brandon Conway
Please log in to view and add comments on poems