by Hello hello, been awhile!
Poem:
The Great & Mighty Corpse
Here is laid in shallow grave
The Great & Mighty Corpse
Soil reeking make fetters bronze
To round fell soldier’s ankles fasten
A lock! A bond!
And throw ‘way the key!
And his watchtowers rot away
Sinking ‘pon and ‘pon like ravished Hell
Starving devils, wyrms, feast ye now
Behold all empire is fallen
All treasure buried with its king
Young paladin rends his helm
And to the tomb descends to rest
N’er life’s sweet musk to taste again
The Great & Mighty Corpse sways
Scepter, topped by grinning skull
Calling ‘pon his forlorn men, yet
Behold! From them no breath rises
Nor black sword lift in battle
But condemned are they to bareness
To artificial heaven rest therein
And therein them rests, unleaded
Nectrin from his bowels give way
And all held within spill forth
Fluids break with body and stain
Ground, no more new life garner
To take root and there flourish
Only maggots prosper from his deeds
Day by day growing fat on the
Blackened heart that resides
In rot’d cavity of his breast
And the raptors that tilt charred
Heavens above cripple their talons
Bow their heads and make descent
To feast on the fat that in the
Heat of day boils up through soil
Stew of emperors their trough
To make grotesque feasting
O familiar sounds of flesh a feasting
Did ere such grave I see before?
These Roman forms of thy warpath—
Visions, visions, why hark!
I know thy works, I know thy fall
Tis the grave of every great diadem
And staff, and weapon
Sheathed in bronze fetters
Ye Great & Mighty Corpse, all powers
Look on thee with fear and envy
On thy grave who can gaze
And tremble not at the works
Of thy hand?
Poem:
The Great & Mighty Corpse
Here is laid in shallow grave
The Great & Mighty Corpse
Soil reeking make fetters bronze
To round fell soldier’s ankles fasten
A lock! A bond!
And throw ‘way the key!
And his watchtowers rot away
Sinking ‘pon and ‘pon like ravished Hell
Starving devils, wyrms, feast ye now
Behold all empire is fallen
All treasure buried with its king
Young paladin rends his helm
And to the tomb descends to rest
N’er life’s sweet musk to taste again
The Great & Mighty Corpse sways
Scepter, topped by grinning skull
Calling ‘pon his forlorn men, yet
Behold! From them no breath rises
Nor black sword lift in battle
But condemned are they to bareness
To artificial heaven rest therein
And therein them rests, unleaded
Nectrin from his bowels give way
And all held within spill forth
Fluids break with body and stain
Ground, no more new life garner
To take root and there flourish
Only maggots prosper from his deeds
Day by day growing fat on the
Blackened heart that resides
In rot’d cavity of his breast
And the raptors that tilt charred
Heavens above cripple their talons
Bow their heads and make descent
To feast on the fat that in the
Heat of day boils up through soil
Stew of emperors their trough
To make grotesque feasting
O familiar sounds of flesh a feasting
Did ere such grave I see before?
These Roman forms of thy warpath—
Visions, visions, why hark!
I know thy works, I know thy fall
Tis the grave of every great diadem
And staff, and weapon
Sheathed in bronze fetters
Ye Great & Mighty Corpse, all powers
Look on thee with fear and envy
On thy grave who can gaze
And tremble not at the works
Of thy hand?
Last edited by Aichu on Fri Sep 04 2009, 09:44; edited 1 time in total
