Treasure Island

Morgan Michaels


Averno


Evil meer, where birds vanish
Dial, freed from the tutelage of the sun
Well of foul wishes, sailed by the ghosts of galleys:
Hell, beneath you, vents gaggles of bubbles-
Blown by its own lewd laughter
Freeing venoms that flap off, bursting,
Leaving to dream your mirror
That turns to heaven a once-more innocent face.
Thin thoughts walk about your shores
Out of your skies cry lamentations, gongs,
Odd barkings. Into your watery plain
The sun slips a ray:
It blazes- you lighten; It dims- you darken.
Tide-less, your shoals hush the whispers of their reeds

Submitted: Friday, February 14, 2014
Edited: Thursday, February 20, 2014
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