Connor Anderson
Connor Anderson Poems
From his childhood hour Agrippa betook to lean
On the pallid statue to dream
About a delicate little flower
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Cold, yielding, yet wishes to be undaunted, from the sorrow laden
that he forfeits. Ruthlessly he cries, flightless
he tries, but still is sitting, never flitting.
From that hunched shadow with the thousand yard stare that lies before him. No word spoken here, and not a single token from the moon are bequeathed to the owl.
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The enigma which binds me still;
An ostentatious knight who would journey to kill.
Lay ill the demise of Earth’s precious gems,
A catalyst for the dragons undaunted stem.
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The Best Poem Of Connor Anderson
The Divine Curse
From his childhood hour Agrippa betook to lean
On the pallid statue to dream
About a delicate little flower
What he dreamt he dreamt alone
The pine trees scent did arose
Projecting an impelling pose
From a time he wished he was born
But whether he chose to think with glee
The solitude would decay his soul
Until he was least but enthralled
Still he implored the Seraph’s would set him free
The machines beguiled his senses
So he slumbered in his shrine
Against the statue submerged in rime
Shivering and sobbing until his body tenses
Imagination was his nurse
Beaming him to other worlds
Where he truly became unfurled
And no longer subdued to the curse
With path amiss and water cold
Benevolence is the key
Where everyone can see
Agrippa’s story had been told
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4/15/2024 11:19:32 PM # 1.0.0.1119
