Soul Force
#4 of Abstract
My style of poetry is very dark, but also like a combination of Poe/Gluck/Nabokov. This poem was inspired by the emotional events I had this year.
I quiver at the banquet of goddesses,
Yet I deny the pleasure of Eden.
The fruits waltzing around me,
The apple advocating the dream
Was nothing more than a dream,
Forfeited fantasies drown inside of me,
Fluttering the very veins of my soul,
Extracting its motives,
For I had nothing to give
Towards the banquet of Eden.
Nourishment towards my soul
Provides nothing but a lie,
A lie that spirals through roses,
A corpse lavenders left lathered
By the scent of pleasure,
By the coveted corruptions,
By the lustful lost
Of the adamant arrow's scar
Against the corpse.
Yes, the corpse
That possessed a soul,
A soul wrathfully waltzing
Through the banquet,
Leaving nothing but sorrow,
Dreading nothing but wonder.
Frightful fruits fathomed
The eye's exposure
Of such a force,
Such a widowed wrath
Of its adamant avarice,
Of its tainted truth,
For all that lies beneath
The face of the waves
Is a soul,
A stitched soul bounded
By the filaments of fate,
By the veins of vanity,
Through the hollowness
Of the once fruitful banquet.