Time's held still, in his tranquil gait.
His invisible smiles, your peace reinstate.
Kind as the Gods, wisdom of the ages,
His omniscient silence, claimt reams of pages.
Father of the seasons, the figure of might.
Light torn asunder, in His proud upright.
On the rare moon, when He did aver,
Rapt held the Gods, Earth stood aquiver.
O' but the words, never spoke of spite.
Out of the seed and into the Light.
To have His gravelly voice befall mortal ears,
Nectar to the Gods, helt pale as tears.
His resolute air, had the Heavens well suited,
but His heart lay with The Mother, earthbound..well rooted.
-Askios
(18-May-2012, 10:00 p.m.)
Wow, you are a poet! <3 I like how this poem ends.
ReplyDeleteHey thanks for reading Purple :) Glad you liked it :D :D
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