Thursday 27 October 2011

AFTER LUCAN’S PHARSALIA: AN ORIGINAL COMPOSITION






Desolate Aeons,

Sifting through the hot sands of Afric,

Two planets collide, opposing Hosts,

Unfurling masts, two sceptr’d orbs,

Of red and green,

Nor black nor white,

And hidden, lurks the seething basilisk.


Though aeons remain,

I long for cooler waters…  


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