Fester
I am a winged fester
Flying for a good weather
Perching to writhe and wither
All that roosted under:
Jeweled lover,
Tigress and panther,
Drunk and sober,
Tired of hunger.
Touch my hands, bold robber
And watch me pilfer
Your death a caper
Touch my hand, lewd dancer
And watch the macabre
Become my reaper
I am cursed to err
From all that I held nearer
Than my own fire and amber.
poem by Norman Santos
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
No comments until now.