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Mike A Eyslee
Poems
Mar 2020
Poplar Branch
A chill of Styx water runs through my heart,
Arrows cannot reach it, I will not let them.
To do so is to die,
Please understand.
Shots of Phlegethon stopped reaching my tears,
Too many times have I gone mad from it's flames.
I would rather forget,
All that icy pain.
When I die from this curse of long-lost touch,
Send me to corrode on the banks of the Lethe.
#greek
#mythology
#vulnerability
#intimacy
Written by
Mike A Eyslee
18/M
(18/M)
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