Lutelyric Poem by robert dickerson

From mists emerge. Closer draw now,
bottomless sprite
and, despot, let your heart dissolve
in pity for my plight.

The scorn that roils your forehead, sweet,
will soon undo you
There is a book where all accounts are set
beware, I sue you.

There is a book where all is writ
the cruelties you do
beside a scrivening angel sits
tallying you

Tallying you, O sweetly cruel,
the list is long
and bit by bit he sums the score
of your tremendous wrong!