Before the fall.
- A M Graetz
- Jun 12
- 1 min read
#poem Ode to destruction
To make one’s form of clay upon a star,
dusted in ruinous cemeteries.
A fallen angel too bereft cause quote.
Shackled mind impervious to fluid waters.
Filled by promethean fire.
diluted to comfort and security.
Yet a stone post two legs between the river of human rust.
Ship has stayed its port with words to sail through
The monsoon of dust.
Complex maidens cry to the sirens on the rocks.
Forget your truths here.
Gather in numbers of novelty.
The sails will fill,
Powder dry.
As the Murder of Crows fly.
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