Azazel's Pit
It is said that there are creator Gods
That create Gods
Who in turn created
Man
These blessings cheated the system of order
Seas of black turn blue in the mind
With one slight of hand
Emerges clay in the shape of man
Trees fork, slit and seeds become killing machines
Steadfast in plights of secrecy and honor
Bestowed on each from what or whom?
Something asexual, of no procreation but created
Fight amongst one another for a turn
At this tug of war amongst giants
Buried in layers as sedimentary rock they wait
Lie dormant until the time is revered
Copyright © Peter Calvanese Jr. | Year Posted 2009
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment