Satan Esquire

Reverse Entitlement - Poem by Satan Esquire

Nun too bright, the stars tonight
Through fingers old and crinkled fall
Upon deaf ears. The Papist cheers
amidst the weirs of winners.

Her habit broken, her words misspoken,
She genuflects whilst standing tall.
The mass resumes amongst the tombs,
A sonic boom of sinners.

The castouts frown in mudcaked gowns
and wonder at the height of it,
To be cut short at last retort.
Must we abort the caterwaul?

Naw, let it be! It pleases me
To coat my claws in puerile splume
And underthings of things turned green
When all I've seen are none for all.

He is always with you.

Listen to this poem:

Comments about Reverse Entitlement by Satan Esquire

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poem Submitted: Tuesday, August 21, 2012

[Report Error]