Sat The Man


High and mighty sat the man.
Golden scepter in his hand.
The finest gifts at his demand.
High and mighty sat the man.

Out to war he sent the men.
“I hold their destinies,” he said.
Back from war came only ten.
Out to war he sent the men.

“Bring me lions, bring me seven,
Bring a goddess sent from heaven.”
As he spoke, the clock struck eleven.
“Bring me lions, bring me seven.”

The man called out from up above.
Enrobed in gold, he longed for love.
Every night, when the clock hit twelve,
The man called out from up above.

High and mighty the man will sit.
Yet he controls not one bit.
Into time his plan won’t fit.
High and mighty the man will sit,

Till time comes to wash him away.
High and mighty the man will stay.
With lions and wars and gods he will play.
Till time comes to wash him away.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem