A Poem by Little Birdie

The prince about to bend history to his whim had a holy man dancing on his eyelashes.

"Innocent like Pontius Pilate," said he,
it echoed.
The words knew exactly
what they meant.

His blue eyes saw salvation
he would admit to none
who stood by his side.

The prince about to bend history to his whim
had a holy man dancing on his eyelashes,

put his righteous head down onto the altar
and made him his martyr.

A night ago he kissed a man who had
hair as long as his own and swore
that he only loves himself.

(You've misjudged my character - 
I could listen to your screams
until Judgement day.)

Realisation hurt
more than 
rains of Florence
(that he summoned)

more than vinegar
on open blisters
(that he spilled)

more than
a promise broken
(that he uttered)

Little prince knew nothing of defeat,
but knew a lot about cheap wine
and dousing with it
the fire that scalded him
from the inside.

© 2015 Little Birdie

Author's Note

Little Birdie
This one's a bit different, I think.

My Review

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Different yet very poignant, well placed and strikes gold in my heart! well done.

Posted 6 Years Ago

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1 Review
Added on January 26, 2015
Last Updated on January 26, 2015
Tags: Machiavelli, Borgia, torture, salvation, injustice, sin, regret, wine


Little Birdie
Little Birdie

Rijeka, Croatia

I'm a weird little bird, and sometimes, I write. more..

gs gs

A Poem by Little Birdie