Saturday, 6 April 2013

The Sixth Day

It has almost been a week since NaPoWriMo was begun and I already feel worn out. However, I am not going to let that stop me from writing more and seeing this month through to the end. So, without further ado, here is today’s poem!


The mantle of saviour he wrote atop his head

Blessed himself with lordship and the right to rule

Baptised himself in heroism

Majority collapsed in adoration and sickly promise

Of divine hope seemingly fulfilled

They kiss the barren earth he is to mould

Feel the radiance of hope almost realised

Too few recall the before, or think of ancient revolution

Wisdom becomes scarce when optimism absorbs

Yet how is this to be when our hero proclaims

That he and his blood are just that: blood

Flesh and bone breathing, breeding all as we

No hint of the Godly whisper in the flesh

And this family are nothing in the abstract

Empires may change hands and faces but never hearts

Not with haste enough to be seen

By any others than those cloistered folks

Whose sole reason for breath slumbers in historic text

Stasis is what is honoured by the present

Though time becomes in itself but a wheel

Which revolves in infinity to our credit

Though the wheel had been halted by the before

This man, our idol of liberation, hath freed

The spokes that turn

We thought it a glory to know not restraints

But this revolution has come to turn

And its passage is ending

We are to fall

That’s all folks.

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