Pilgrim
My pilgrimage to jerusalem,
My wanderings into the inner depths of the asylum,
I saw drunks playing dice,
Betting on three ones,
Gambling the shirts of their backs,
I met with the penitent,
And opened the scar tissue that ran red upon my back,
I looked for the lord,
And found what can only be assumed sand shrouded silver,
The governors and the lords persist,
That i have wandered into unknown territory,
Or that with all my pride and zealous;
Have convinced many to digest my ideas,
I can stand tall knowing,
With all my lustful appetite,
That i have touched the blood drip from the leper,
Or that i have loved the whore wearing the silk garb,
And that i am me,
And that I always wished to be me.
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.