The Three - Poem by Zane Gilley
Some nights the hateful women scream at me
Midst kisses running down my head and back.
The bellows shake the windows violently.
Illuminations always fade to black.
The grand arena screaming out my name
Throws scarlet thorns between the lions' teeth.
The roaring crowds will instigate the flame
Of Spirits' understated need to breathe.
Yet, while I stroll alongside Charon's brook,
Considering the passing shades of life,
I cast their words as waves into the book
And feed the fishes cleaning Fortune's knife.
They dance beneath the Democlean sword
Dispensing giggles with Demeter's word.
Comments about The Three by Zane Gilley
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