Four yellow demons fly in uncanny formation below my field of awareness.
Only the magnetic warmth of my liver signals the impending imbalance.
I reach for my vibrated water and spray a translucent web over horned wings.
It fuels an anger born within myself. A revelation of astonishing clarity.
They seek not the petty remnants of the Golden one’s plate.
Tis my soul that buzzes their waspish intent.
These are the Harbingers of Attention!!
Drawn by memories of ancient Jerusalem.
Awake. Awake. Dear William Blake. And from thy heavenly plume
Beseech the Queen on my behalf !
That she sends forth her heavenly hosts along the central path.
But thy boon is late. They attack. I react.
The first battle is lost err Grace.
Merged with a sting of unholy poison that bleeds forth my imperfections
And separates me from the calyx of my self. He laughs.
The nameless ONE who destroys from within.
powerful and deeply compelling
Powerful and beautifully rhyming. :)
my tail is wagging.
Poetry is so hard to comment on and this one particularly. Poetry is personal, intimate. This one is like an animal under a blacket. I fear to pull back the sheet, in fear that it might be an orge or it might be a puppy dog. With each reading, it appears like the other. And that is what makes it grand.