The Dying Planet
Starlight, pass me not.
Starlight, silver fingers stretching across black consciousness in reach.
Starlight, a feel of loss.
Starlight, glitter beyond abyss, tides of time will reach the hopeless beach.
The Prince
Kill, I tried – soaked the earth with my pride.
Again nothing came, spirit ablaze – the level reached, just the same.
Kill, I died – my race I couldn’t save, dwindled in size.
Again, life replenished anew, legendary form – but nothing was the same.
Recoil did my appetite – disgust, in broiled were the fallen ones – in rust.
Of skill, of mind, of everything in time – dishonour, it’s nigh, higher level, must climb.
The God of end – our fates were bent, this power is true, a lake – tranquil and blue.
By Alpha Maurice Cidade Cauwenbergh
© Alpha Maurice Cidade Cauwenbergh – Storyteller, Poet & Intern at Wordsmith Inc 2015. Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Alpha Maurice Cidade Cauwenbergh – Storyteller, Poet & Intern at Wordsmith Inc with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
