A poets retort

A poets retort

 

Pierced through the flesh,

scared in the heart.

 

Would you have thrust your witty point so deep had I been a lesser man?

Would you have settled for a mere flesh wound?

 

Has your blade not dug its barb deep enough?

Do you relish in the sight as to watch my soul slowly drain?

 

Would you, if I begged you to repair this wound with kinder words to my soul?

 

I will not beg for salvation,

nor will I utter a single poem in regret for supposed poetic infractions.

 

Na, na you will not see me in despair,

I will never avail upon you the satisfaction of your supposed triumph.

 

You may see me bleed from your barbs and pass through the vail (from which earthly bonds have chained my soul and wrought torture upon it)
unto the spirits that welcome me in ghostly open arms.

 

But this I promise you, with my last dying poem,

you will never have my poetry to claim as your prize,

to be hung on the wall like a trapped animal killed for sport.

 

Na, na...na this will never come to pass,

lest you be haunted by you foul deeds.

 

My poets life you may have taken,

but my poetry will never be yours to claim as you would you gilded treasure.

 

Author's Note

I have no idea where this came from, it just kind of took over and wrote itself.

That said. This poem is not aimed at any one, no one upset me. I wrote it because it was in my head and nothing more.

Reviews

[Robbie~xoxo~]

Well this is different from your usual sensual expressions...

What ails you dear Ron?.... it seems to stem from a deep cut somewhere...

You bled... truly bled....

I hope you find inspiration in greater things... let not antagonistic thoughts run your poetic heart off course...

show love and mercy... ~xoxo~:)

[ron]

This was not inspired by antagonistic thoughts, I started to write something else and this one had a mind of it's own and took over. Thank you Robbie...~xoxo~:)

[Robbie~xoxo~]

oh, I see... well pen on then... :)

[ron]

Thank you... :)