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Eunice Sng


FANTASY AFICIONADO. A cross-breed between goth and emo. Has an obsession with vintage and Victorian stuff. Loves Green Day and My Chemical Romance. Also a dedicated reader and logophile.

Message to Readers

Am I using words appropriately? Is this poem making sense?


December 15, 2015

PROMPT: Open Prompt

Your indefatigable omnipresence
Has poured life into existence
Cold like Northern icebergs
And hot as chthonian lava
Victim of manipulation
But puppet master behind all

Oh maestro of life!
How you conduct your bass choristers
Of thunder
To rumble in fortissimo
Baptising the earth
With billions of your tiny offspring
Restoring desiccated vegetation
Their viridescent gleam. 

Oh maids of service!
How, like unfeeling employers
We make you clean traces of dirt
Drink your pure essence
Conduct daily ablutions in you
Without a second thought

Oh majesty of tranquility!
How you complement the moonlight's effulgence
In Italian lakes
Accoutred in her opalescent jewellery
Coyly eddying
As you hold bouyant gondolas
With young romantics

Oh monarch of solace!
How at the darkest of our days
A coruscating drop slides down
Delineating a path on the arc of our cheeks
Lone companion to the stygian Depression depths
Of the soul.

But only a section of your oeuvre, that is.

Oh master of destruction!
How at your whim
You command your soldiers
To coalesce into ten-story behemoths
And obliterate everything in their path
While us,
Your opponents caught off guard
Retreat hurriedly shouting your battalion's name

Queen of peace
Companion of souls
Harbinger of death
You, the apotheosis of existence.



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  • December 15, 2015 - 3:25am (Now Viewing)

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