Tag Archives: history

Fallen king

The dusty lobes of your eyes,
Dark news of a king’s wellness they carry
To the masses,
On raven wings of a light tongue

Broken, the spirits of her citizens,
Surrounded by enemies of blades and chariots,
Camping under the hollow moon

And before dawn,
Shall they throw rocks of flames,
To the sky walls of this city,
Commencing, the day between jaws of desolation

Mothers shall run,
Hidden,  faces of their cherished daughters,
Behind loincloths of their ashes
And sons, besides their fathers,
The rising spirits of the dead

How easy it is to set fire on a pine forest?
So easy it is, to seize a city whose king lies,
Covered in wool and animal skin,
Fighting the inviting winter of an after world

The place where time defines no history
But an abyss of oblivion
A throne without a heir,
And a name,  to vanish like smoke

image

Advertisements

The masters

Rivers of sorrow
Valleys of shattered souls
Stolen childhoods, 
Self interests of the masters

Beastly hunger,
Rewarded narcissism
Luncheons of meat and wine,
Decaying flesh and blood

Tainted,  fine fabric,
Disgusting games of folly
Echoes of hypocritical laughter,
On neatly furnished wood

And hidden gold daggers,
Windowless stone houses
An assassination burglary,
Lone dark nights, long

And clothed in honor,
veiled in arrogance
Despicable faces,
Masked with expensive makeup

suffocating perfumes,
A rising air across the gold mines
The soulless humans
The slave masters of the century

The final day of judgment (Pompeii)

 

Dark clouds fast-flying

Red, gray and black fog

Raining rocks with flames

Burning flesh and bones

Singing the song of the dead

Long, loud and scary

Like it was a lake of fire

Filled with amorphous silhouettes

 

The ground shook so hard

Bursting up randomly, so rough

Tearing down the stone walls,

The mighty pillars of the arena,

Deep, long running cracks,

Sinking with it the history of city,

Bearing names of the legends

The brave gladiators of Pompeii

 

To see and not hope,

To fear and not be scared,

But rather live on the last day

Stealing every second there is

While battling the angel of death

Bringing with him the wrath of gods

And taking as many souls possible

On the final day of judgment