entry picture

Poison vapours

etched in gloom.

Ghastly, void,

vacant, the guardian of

a chained black gate.


Never sleeping;

eyes, as heads,


waiting for heroes

to seal their fate.


In legends torn

from clay cast bright

we may witness

fire and blades and bows;

such blood-fuelled spite.


Now all too real;

slowly shed,

the skin of time;

and dreams of darkness bred

a tyrant’s might.

2013CorruptionGreek MythmonsterspoliticiansTyranny

◄ The Heights

In the Temples of the Elders ►


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Marianne Louise Daniels

Thu 15th May 2014 08:55

You can't beat a good old mythical poem!

Really like the sounds you have used - "ghastly, void, vacant" is such a lovely thing to say even though the personalities of the words are so bleak.

I have also written a poem recently called Hydra.

Good stuff!

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