Friday, July 2, 2010

Poem (sestina): The Curse of Gold by Isabella Taylor

The Curse of Gold (by Isabella Taylor, Age 8)

It was upon a dreary yesterday
That I gazed upon God’s acre so grotesque
With feet firmly pressed into the blackened loam
A soul now pitted in darkness
Devaluing your life for gold
To plunge so willingly into Aphrodite’s curse

From rich, chesnut hair to the oiled grey strain of this befallen curse
Oh, to long for yesterday
Twas only a shining mineral reflecting gold
Changing man’s reason to thoughts so grotesque
A beacon of light now plunged into darkness
Submerged deep down under the loam

This rich treasure birthed from loam
Sustaining man’s greedy curse
A jeweled promise hidden in the darkness
A drink from Lethe to forget your yesterdays
Leading you into Hades realm of the grotesque
No longer having a heart of gold

Who knew when you began this search for gold
In the innocent, unapologetic loam
Your shovels would bend so grotesquely
And under your breath you whisper a curse
As all your days turn into empty yesterdays
Continuing the dig deeper and deeper into the abyss of darkness

Every attempt seems to end in darkness
Temperatures rising in a fever of gold
With this false hope that today will be better than yesterday
Your clothes bathed in the scent of loam
Strengthening you to free yourself from this poor man’s curse
But I find your fury so utterly grotesque

A joyful clamor with a smile so grotesque
You finally found a piece of light in the darkness
However you have not beaten the curse
A twist of fate brings you only fool’s gold
With a bellowing cry you fall face down into the loam
Wishing you could have changed your yesterday

Yesterday, you would have never imagined flecks of gold as grotesque
The loam blanketing its deceit in darkness
And you but a mere victim to its golden curse

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