They who take pride in wrest and usurp
never see their own shadow behind them,
stalking, haunting their amoral manner -
and take it to sleep, which they do so well,
as they never take time to look back 'n see
what opprobrious paths they've unfurled,
'n they'll never look back, but not because
they exude from a plethora of confidence,
but instead, because if their story be told,
they are afraid of their very own shadow.
Power, hubris and avarice,
Diablios' unholy trinity,
rebuked by Christ on a mountain top,
rued by many who chose to drink-
from the cup of all three,
in a lifetime of weakness,
that left those who drank
long, fast and hearty
all alone on a mountain top
pleading for Mercy.
© 2015-All rights reserved
Frank James Ryan Jr. / FjR
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Excellent writing, FJR. witty SUB TITLE.