Between Greed and the Mask (poem)

Robert Quick

Where the -@!# did my muse go?

Writer, dreamer, knight, shackled by entertainment . . . and people.

In the darkness when man does sleep

and a pallid moon is the only company he keeps

the waves are calm, the silence deep,

but in his dreaming heart is only greed.

Our candles burn low crying tears of soft wax

but we rejoice for it is our time at last.

Time for feathered guardians and ancient pacts,

tonight we'll make them see beyond the mask.


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Robert Quick

Robert Quick

Based on this image

  • #3881 Posted 4 years ago
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Author's prompt text:

Ekphrastic poem


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