The Fountain.

The fountain was not as envisaged.
     The saddest truths swirled, a fallacy – youth.
Hordes of ghastly grey faces, huddled together amidst this dismal revelation.
Refraction, bespeckled with shimmering gold
     bed of coins, wishes and desires – drowned by the wicked three.
Cackling, broken neck swans, delinquency beckoned.
                                   Here I am –
Even the Deer, with eyes of glass, has come to bear witness
     subjugation of Man.
The wicked three, disrobed and anointed the one
     exposed to the rotting God – shameless.
Disciples, companions, company, all are subdued – submerged.
     Rise and bathe each other, drinking dirtied water.
The wicked three, the broken neck swans
     shriek and take their leave.
The fountain was very different, indeed.

Published by Lobster Thoughts

Poetic expression and general madness.

One thought on “The Fountain.

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