Thursday, 24 September 2015

Poem: The Satyrs Dance



The Satyrs Dance


Listen. 
Can you hear it?

The sweet music softly rustles through the leaves.
The Bacchae women are wailing.
The madness is coming. 
The Satyrs are prancing, phalluses erect and standing proud.

Stop.
Can you feel it?

The ecstasy is taking over.
The mind is becoming dizzy.
The throat is becoming thirsty.
And the world begins to spin as the God of Wine steps forth.


-- Written by T.Sousa





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