The Quill
Here lies the profit:
trapped
in his legacy of erasers and tipex.
Forsaken. Forgotten
by the Master for whom he built empires
of love and loss. Each night his blood
was spilt in oceans of bold passion
with wings he’d soar through sparkling skies
and please his Lord, so was the fashion
of his kingdom, which was admired
by fans and critics far and wide.
But soon his feathers
crumpled and his
blood boiled
under the artificial shadow
that left his nation
a wasteland.
A castaway remains:
a preacher
abandoned
by a God.
Tom Harper
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