Poem2024-07-25T09:32:52+00:00

Nepenthe

By: Michael John Hawley

Drawn deep by scent of Nepenthe
The curling fogs of fantasy
That tumbled mountains, still-calmed seas,
Slow but sure- devoured me

Buried whole beneath this place
To gaze an ever-changing face
Which ever hydra turned a smile
Or snarled and spit its venomed bile

The more and more it turned and turned
The more and more I yearned and yearned
In nectar lure, becharming weave
Unto its web of make-believe

Forever haunted in this snare
Lured by a soul that was not there
Enchantress of the ill-conceived
Oh dark, so deep,
So Nepenthe

Drawn deep by scent of Nepenthe
That slow but sure devoured me
Lost in Scheol’s darkest abyss
All for this,
My Nemesis