Morait-Lotath

Deep of dwelling in this cave,
quite bereft
in absence of thought, and where rain
has taken upon measure to pave
through this cleft
and into slits
within which no light shall remain.

His face of hollow pain,
our lord sits
upon throne crafted of tears in theft
and the whispered promises we gave.

And we, the mad, rave
in a delerlium to help the wicked heft
up her mighty guiles, and in using she nits
the path we welcome, for we are all insane.
No brother will be save
for they must be left
to the beast who spits
the bones upon his squamous mane.

Author's Note

Written for a contest where all poems had to fit the scheme of ABCDABCD-DCBA-ABCDABCD and all rhyming words had to be chosen before the time of writing.

Reviews

[ICE]

I could never be so structured. It worked out quite well for you though.

[Lyra H]

Pretty damn good for such complicated instructions!

[Elliot Kyron]

I really liked this one. The style made a bigger impact on the piece.
Very well written. I loved it.