Posted by: Ron DuBour | April 19, 2018

HEMLOCK’S MALADY~by Gœaldèþ Rhÿdëï


 

 

HEMLOCK’S MALADY

Image may contain: one or more people

Silence in the night that sway the somber breeze
Until the moon shines o’er the gloomy star
Spirit awakens by the brightly gaze
In Serenity hues of Ol’ buttermilk sky
Sordid souls depressed in the gallows.

If death mirth the recesses of the heart
Yield not unto it, for its fair to awaken ethereal divine
Amidst the savages of high spirits above
A dove descended with savvy feathers
From hamlet tho’ casts the awakening lucidity.

Lo and Behold! Erudition of time conquers all!
When drought spell drowned the virile land
She would fog it with mist as it wind down as thirty I am?
Come, as we quaff the cup of savoir faire,
As a burnish to our blunt elegance.

Socrates, Oh Socrates! Ordeal of Athenian Death!
Who owed a rooster to Asclepius?, forget not thy debts.
For unto thee, oh unto thee, who lament the impiety of Philosophy?
Forethought the anguish of ruminations, Draught a goblet of Hemlock potion: “The Philosopher’s Choice”
As a quencher for naiveté’ of ignorance.

rhydel dogadle copyright 2018


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Categories

%d bloggers like this: