Hypothetical Wax Poem by NikMorgan ...

Hypothetical Wax



In the kingdom of enigmas
Frets the father of the son
Surveying all his wonders
Wondering what he’s done
A king of good intentions
His vision went awry
We misconstrued his dogma
Now in his name we die
A slapdash creator
Your master-plan is flawed
Those insightful words of wisdom
Just justification to the horde
We are dying to meet you
And the glory that awaits
Only to find disillusion
At the blockade of pearly gates
In the land of ever after
Where the righteous get their prize
The father of confusion
Sits alone and cries

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success