THE MOUNTAIN

                  


    Oh mighty fallen Titan, once so great,

    With ancient purple cheeks now cracked by tears,

    Has fatal time so caught thee through the years

    And kept thy backbone to this rigid state?

    What art thou still?  Thy clutching hands dead weight?

    Each knuckle's rigor mortalness yet leers

    The fear that thou art dead.  Thy scalp appears

    A snowy crown now  frigid by thy fate.

    Yet is there frozen in some cavern's yawn

    Still blood enough of passion's molten flame

    To stir thy sleeping body from this trance?

    Say this, that thou wilt rise 'gainst what was drawn

    And claim thy throne and reign on never tame;

    To take thy stance and do thy cosmic dance!
       

Reviews

[PurpleQuartz]

Wonderful write!