PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The oracles and monsters have been slain,

have left their places empty, lost their art,

but still I languish, waiting for their strain.



I, disenchanted, shirk my full-free rein

though none can make replacement for my heart;

the oracles and monsters have been slain.



What mythic portions on this table plain

are left me?  Where remains my mythic part?

But still I languish, waiting for their strain.



Unsatisfaction holds me on this skein,

has bound me here when I would newly start;

the oracles and monsters have been slain.



What use this thought apart?  What use this pain?

Am I, unchastened, waylaid on this cart?

But still I languish, waiting for their strain.



So, quite ungrounded, I begin again,

take stock of my believings and their tart:

the oracles and monsters have been slain

but still I languish, waiting for their strain.