Atemuda - Poem by delalorm fiaka
Pulmonary arteries proportionally prune pressure
As timid tenants search their skulls for treasure
For the weary an exercise of pleasure
For they who chose leisure, a non-recusant torture measure
Blots of ink purposefully splatter
The exhausted minds anxiety barely does batter
The gleaming pulp of papyrus seeks refuge
As an enthusiastic tube unleashes the brain’s residue
The bright becomes bleak
The bleak becomes bright
To surrender, or to fight?
To accept a dammed plight?
Or upon your being failure indict?
Don’t deprive your valiant sight
Look up, victory is so much in sight
Clasp your hands and request insight
Don’t cave in just yet, stay on and fight.
Comments about Atemuda by delalorm fiaka
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You