Generic Despotism

Such blissful misgivings

Forgive my transgressions

Their allotted time runs out

The Meek shall inherit the Earth

Fountains of youthful blood will mount

And into our hearts, their limp-wristed mirth

Plague-ridden nightmare of conscious

I stand alone in the street

A victim of thought

Experience left me not cautious

Trapped, never caught

Wistful in my own defeat

Pretention verging on the obnoxious

And into our hearts, their limp-wristed mirth

Fountains of youthful blood will mount

The meek shall inherit the Earth

Their allotted time runs out

Forgive my transgressions

Such blissful misgivings

 

 

 

Disclaimer: This is the first poem I have ever written, please do not judge it too harshly.

 

Advertisements

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 )

Twitter picture

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

Facebook photo

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

Google+ photo

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

Connecting to %s