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The Key

I’m done and not yet dying
through the feverish rotten grey
malignant toss and turning
bouts of whittled saltless rain

through the milk wades Cerberus keeping
they find not the submerged box
sunken deep Pandora’s waiting
in an endless paradox

and for all the gods laid watching
through the gold lions they can stare
battle fortified and steady
but the battlegrounds lay bare

sultry distant hum of yearning
‘find the key and find your home’
but the gods still lay there ready
and the Cerberus still roams

Published inFantasyMainOther


  1. Well penned as usual. Though I don’t write dark poetry anymore,
    I enjoy reading your work. Excellent choice of words and great rhyming.

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