Neither Hypnos, Oneiros, nor Thanatos
Into the world, I, chosen, bornmarked with the finger of their God
upon my crown: a child of scorn
who fled to the rich land of Nod,
a land of hope and fields of corn,
of much to curse, and much to laud.
With angels, I called forth arcs of lightning
from out of the sky—and their power
in my outstretched hands was frightening.
But Nod's hatred, an evil shower,
denied youth's harsh but gradual brightening
of my childhood's most tender hour.
Then came the wraith! Though frightened, I
caught a full glance of the grim reaper.
At my bedside, stood it silently by,
as I peered at it ever deeper;
then it vanished! as I breathed a sigh,
frozen like a dead toddler sleeper!
Poetry by Ngoc Nguyen
Read 514 times
Written on 2021-07-19 at 01:47
Tags Hypnos Oneiros Thanatos
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