Look here : it is a sonnet! About realtionships, about vanity - and how it destructs- and about losing your soul.


A jester to his queen

It is an empty country when the blinded queen
Stumbles as she strides, falls if she feigns
Meets fated fear; that dormant darkness can be seen
By all but her. So solemn silence reigns

In that land, in that room, on her steps it follows
And her words and her pledges or wathever tears
She still can cry; they return, come back hollow
And not fill her heart with new and fated fear

We are born gods and entered light unknowing
That darkness could eclipse our day
And higher gods have outlined our way

So mind your step. The path we are going
Is made for queens and jesters and those who say
We are but children in a greater play




Poetry by erwin
Read 294 times
Written on 2007-02-24 at 21:58

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