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CUITLAHUAC Who goes there? Speak! PRIEST OF TLALOC Another wandering soul. CUITLAHUAC God save your heart, your grace. PRIEST OF TLALOC And yours, my lord. CUITLAHUAC This is no night to sleepwalk thus abroad. PRIEST OF TLALOC The shouts and whimpers chased me from my bed, And stir me in somnambulating fright. CUITLAHUAC These whirlwinds pour forth torrents from the sky, But what is worse- the horrid portents seen From every roof, spark tears from every eye. PRIEST OF TLALOC Our crops droop as if weary of this world, And beasts, most manlike, brood on shapeless fears. CUITLAHUAC The time’s as if our wives around the hearth Spun yarns of winter’s tales to fright our tots, And woke to find their nursery-romance real. Now, fairy-fabled bugbears lurk in alleys. PRIEST OF TLALOC The sallow moon, a lop-eared phantom looms; Her astral lantern threats pale devilry, More fearsome on display than in eclipse. CUITLAHUAC A sulfurous comet brands the starry sphere; Its tail points like a trail towards Mayaland, And nightly northward does it come- It creeps. PRIEST OF TLALOC If ever man has offered prayer for omens, He could not ask for signs more palpable.
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Oct 10, 2016
Oct 10, 2016 at 11:51 AM UTC
The Floral War 1:4:1-22
CUITLAHUAC Who goes there? Speak! PRIEST OF TLALOC Another wandering soul. CUITLAHUAC God save your heart, your grace. PRIEST OF TLALOC And yours, my lord. CUITLAHUAC This is no night to sleepwalk thus abroad. PRIEST OF TLALOC The shouts and whimpers chased me from my bed, And stir me in somnambulating fright. CUITLAHUAC These whirlwinds pour forth torrents from the sky, But what is worse- the horrid portents seen From every roof, spark tears from every eye. PRIEST OF TLALOC Our crops droop as if weary of this world, And beasts, most manlike, brood on shapeless fears. CUITLAHUAC The time’s as if our wives around the hearth Spun yarns of winter’s tales to fright our tots, And woke to find their nursery-romance real. Now, fairy-fabled bugbears lurk in alleys. PRIEST OF TLALOC The sallow moon, a lop-eared phantom looms; Her astral lantern threats pale devilry, More fearsome on display than in eclipse. CUITLAHUAC A sulfurous comet brands the starry sphere; Its tail points like a trail towards Mayaland, And nightly northward does it come- It creeps. PRIEST OF TLALOC If ever man has offered prayer for omens, He could not ask for signs more palpable.
From my play in verse, thefloralwar.com
#iambicpentameter
david-betten
Written by
david-betten
Oct 10, 2016
Oct 10, 2016 at 11:51 AM UTC
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