Culture //

The Tyrant

A poem by Elena Zagoudis.

With my greatest encouragement, I will coerce

The nature of the graceful beauty Time,

For her ageless beauty stands

Tonight in the path, as blinding light,

Between the girl’s heart and mine

While the toils of the sunrise are dealt

With in a world away from mine, I lay in

My arms and imagine an image absent

From that before my eyes

With howling of foreign wolves and crowing

Of morning birds, I am trapped in this

Mid-darkness, from which the moon

Refuses to rise and the sun hides

In this queerest hour I evoke the lady Time,

And I coerce her to obedience – for she

Is momentarily mine –

I plead for the resolution of the girl’s

Arms in mine, and playfully, She declines

Never a more mischievous spirit have I found,

That dances around my desires or thought, as

She runs through the wind in chimes, and

Trickles through slow droplets on my windowsill

Painfully stagnant as She goes, mimicking

Wintry condensations

She will not show me kind revelation, not tonight,

As my eyes search for the passage to Hers,

The undying, relentless Tyranny of Time

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