a poem

[non-sequitur aeon]

i don't typically write and have never posted poetry, but i'm figuring i'll share this one...there's no title and it's written in a 'narrorative' 1st person


upon what times have i been placed
within what wails does my flesh fester
grace within me evanescent
such fall i contemplate in jest
the jest, albeit irony
farm from gold, as it were
granted wish in fire;
transmutation, in hope
ascension, i desire

feelings assunder, tempestuous thoughts received
i realize;
no, believe
never has the foundation been hope
rather, it is the ground in which it lies
my eyes
translucent counterpart to my matted abode
shine they bright, i sigh
as it were

my perceived course, i juxtapose
my perceptual source, dichotomy sewn
are the same
as it were

omnidistant from the world, i feel
angeli glorioso, i appeal
zealous attemps to ascertain
nirvana, hindered, from this dormain
esperum, i cry
as it were

my eyes show, yet never find
lumines divine, yet unrefine
shine in vespertine suture, my love

within what casings have i dwell
methinks, and accepts, without prevail
a silence cool as hell's ninth sphere
a golden truth frozen, within solid leer
apart of myself, i can see though never show
part of myself winged, esoteric glow

and whosoever may see such form
has shown said love, and may adorn
a golden sphere

distance deceives, i've always been
here with you goddess
one may begin,
anew
in jest i cry;
as it were

-meek

[non-sequitur aeon]

lol, the 6th line is supposed to be far* from gold

[redeemer143]

I love it. It sounds to me very much like Milton. Or Dante.

[non-sequitur aeon]

Thank you

[redeemer143]

you're welcome! ^_^