Who Am I? Poem by Scarlett Charlotte

Who Am I?



Only when the stain of the dust that I crave for
Had fully deprived my dried lips of the ardour
I sought for the water, I writhed and laid down for,
And reflected but plenty, I descried my shape.

Who is this coiled and latticed appearance,
Glinting with deathly and shocking belligerence?
And this coating of vanity grown thence from my ignorance.

I washed my dried palate of blood sweet and tender
With the water, I swallowed the guise, face and gender
Reflected, I swallowed my years of crawling distemper.

So this be what beasts of more moral ascension,
Dream of, they scream of, in nights deep recession,
In their pallid dreams they glean of my monstrous possession.

I am the tragic of their cloying fake purity,
I'm the demon in tales of love and security,
And They curse great the venom of my rank industry.

They say I'm the portent, the filthy dust eater,
They shoot the venom, as they play me in theatre,
As I tempted innocence, with an apple more sweeter.

I see now their antidote to my ghoulish prescription
To vanquish the devils that meet my description,
My false accused evil lies in an ancient encryption.

Is human the one wreathed falsely in horror?
They name the light, dark, today and tomorrow.
They name the hate, and they named me their sorrow.

They hear not my murmur, my sibylic musing
And of the macrocosm, its 'theirs' I'm intruding
As with all I'm dismissed as both vile and confusing

Now what is named is pretentious digression
For what meaning's 'human' but narcissistic obsession
And as with the rising, we'll paint his dissension.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Kurt Behle 08 May 2009

It is pretty much good. you used all the powers and gave it too much meaning. It is too much strong! Well it deserve over 10+

0 0 Reply
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success