False Prophet?
You have humbled me-
Groveling for any stone
To throw;
Pebbles of yesteredays-
Paleolithic Era-
Sit silent-
In a copious-
Summer sun;
And you-
Drowning in such-
Circumstance...
The waters using you up-
Your energy dissolved-
In a mere flash-
One rip tide;
Gone in the glory-
And the deeps-
Unfathomnable-
Becomes the reality-
Of the still blue lagoon;
What a slap in the face-
From the tide...
It stung upon your-
Vanquished skin-
Shriveling from the water-
Logged tissue of your derma;
Down on your knees now-
In the glass house that-
You designed and built;
Flashes of a fresh view-
Of the sea and shore-
A Malibu moment resurrected;
Once accepted by you-
But unsatisfied- wanting more;
Away from the crags and rocky cliffs-
The pebbles-and the stones aside-
And onto the alibaster sands-
Where the heat comes rising from-
Your footprints-reminding even me-
That you were never immortal at all...
And Idoltry is not just a major sin but-
A delusion of the minds of those-
Who once believed in the magic of you.
Dedicated To: Sheltered aka: ...
poem by Theodora Onken
Added by Poetry Lover
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