Seven Stars

A Poem by M. Lumiére

To drown at their pleasure is a mission sacred to their harbingers.

SEVEN STARS

The Seven stars thirst for blood,
crimson rivers that shall flood
valleys, meadows, shores and homes
swallowed as the river flows.

Brittle elders of times past,
remains to cover plains all-vast.
The sky turns rancid,
black with wrath
the stars are smiling,
black's the path.

Hope is lost, all will drown
the beasts, the demons drag them down

into the depths,

which await.

The stars are smiling,

black's the fate.

Those who dare are damned the worst,

burns the emotion that shall burst

the body open,

bereft of future.

The stars are smiling,

red's the butcher.

© 2019 M. Lumiére

Author's Note

yeah maybe I'm not a very good poet

My Review

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Reviews

Erudite

I think you're a good poet. Don't be so hard on yourself. Tis a well penned poem, few can argue with that. However, I would argue with this poem ideologically. Whereas you may see black as the path... I see blackness as a dead end. Positivity prevails, fellow author