A rushing flood. Who can stop it?


The Devil's Mountain

Broad shouldered mass of rock and stone
I gaze from the river, which flows close by
Atop on the peak sits a mischeivous throne
Observing more than a falcon's right eye

Once, back when the road was given birth
My river tide flooded, ascended up hill
And whilst I was rising, absorbing the earth
My blue eyes were calming in such rushing thrill

Calming, then combing, the slopes that there stood
Harmonious gray stones ka-klanged in a chime
Drowning the grasses, and dampening wood
Filling the valleys which lived to test time

I soon reached the top, but had come to a stop
There stood a thing with a pan flute and cup
It stared at me, smiled, while is sat with a *plop*
Bent into me and drank all of me up



Poetry by weirdzarun
Read 423 times
Written on 2006-11-10 at 19:49

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