entry picture

This aristocrat's a creature of ascendancy

Red-jewelled, attracted by oblivion,

She struggles on

Dreams by day

Lies by night.


Her husdand's suicide:

Such a lot of commotion

For a man of less than monkish virtue.


She's the mistress of horology

Perfectly un-Islamic,

A troubadour,

Of old.


And the war has now begun

And will end in the holy city

Of Jerusalem

And many will burn their eyes

Before she is done, or dies.



🌷 (1)

◄ Elegy



No comments posted yet.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message