Wed, Aug 5 2009 10:17 AM
Solredime
a poem
Born of the fire,
Fuelled by desire,
Rises an idol
forsaken by hell.
This spirit of madness,
the terror it wrought.
None now remember,
the havoc it sought.
Enslaving our minds
in the shackles of hate.
Its emblem was blood,
but its enemy fate.
Yet now it revolves,
breeds anew its disorder.
With merciless lies,
it coerces the truth.
It proclaims itself light,
yet its veil obscures all.
In the darkness of plight,
it destroys wherewithal.
When will the truth,
the beauty of love.
Send spite its venom,
send soaring the dove.
How long must wait I for people to sober,
how long will fools praise what's always in vain.
Filed under: poetry, poem, idolatry, idol, desire, fire