Poetry

The Flight of Pegasus

I now begin my solemn flight

From great Parnassus of my delight

Centuries after I was born

Out of Medusa’s furious gore.

I shall wander round the globe

To see who exhibits me most

Being the winged horse of the arts

And having possessed many of my choice.

Alas! What do I see here?

Screaming children and wailing mothers

Hungrily writhing in the shadow of war

Fed to stupor by ammunition for sure–

Ammunition moving the petrified pens of poets

And lettered men I  the fray

Singing songs of endless victory

And of history’s tear-blotched face.

Shall I end my flight?

Or shall I flap my wings

And douse the flame of strife?

If only Zeus would let me, if only….

 

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