Poetry

The Renaissance Warrior

Chill! It’s just a poem.

Coming but a soul diseased knight
onetime it had been my intention
A novice proceeds to figure out
the sunshine shining upon stains.

Yet the cause and root of all his ill
The undoing of the cord so soon
The head a porthole now open
Must forgive and forget the bane.

No ashes, no sack-cloth did he need
Faced with the truth which seems to be a lie
Finding a purpose within one’s own room,
Negligence is a decision, made blind.

Bitter penance with an iron whip
That through the murky atmosphere saw
Oranges are good for illness
Shifting seasons, colours, names, all ignored.

art black and white close up horse
Photo on Pexels.com

This poem was inspired by the works of Marie Darrieussecq, and the many Lectures of Dr. J. Lawrence, when I discovered The Faerie Queene and Dante’s Inferno.

J. Spencer, Creative Writing. July 2018

Renaissance Warrior – Verdalibre

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