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Built on Triumphant Terror's name,
Our Emperor's words risk raising scorn,
That history might soon surmise,
If people used clear sighted eyes;
But blood will barely leave a stain
When gentle heros brag the prize,
And barter in slick spoken lies:
Revise! Historians Revise!

-January 19,2006

by David Zvekic

Comments (4)

Reading this poem brings Prufrock into mind
amazingly this man belives in the spontaneous sense of inspiration but in his work like this one, adding coherence in a random manne, r express the unavoidable talent he possesses with the manipulation of words to create imagery with even the flow of words, ignoring the sensory details of the meaning of the words this is one of my favorite poems hes written: D
eerily beautiful i love this poem. it almost ginsberg-esque, the crude loose imagery. it's amazing the darkness and the harshness. etching at the raw figure of humanity and tearing his soul into shards of insanity he breaths into the world the stifling hotness mirroring around and laying to rest in complete helplessness. i can't save the last weeping tune of loneliness because we humans we foes we lovers must scratch the bitter ends and read infinite syllables of painful, sinful, lustful, repulsive starry confusion.