Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2022
The mark is supposed to be
The clad of them, a heritage of the endless sea
They drown in diamond jars of kings and queens
The heritage is lurked in purge of glee
Helms of the sea are naught like nyx
The sky was stretched to the golden fleece
The mark stretched to frightened Selene
The mark is going to be the pike, pyre, pride
The fuel to burn your enemies
Written by
Please log in to view and add comments on poems