BY ANDREW NGUYEN
Staff Writer
To no height, His mountains settled
To no land, His seas saw,
Acres to the horizon,
He was beautiful,
To no fatigue, He ran,
To no dusk, He sought,
Acres to the horizon,
He was beautiful,
But blinded by thyself,
And deaf to truth,
Imploded by praise,
And death by demons,
Vesuvius, Oh Vesuvius,
With your black ash,
I couldn’t see you coming,
Vesuvius, My Vesuvius,
To no bounds, our knowledge knew,
To no bars, our imagination lived,
Acres to the horizon,
We were beautiful
To no light, We raged,
To no end, We started,
Acres to the horizon,
Only ‘til our Vesuvius
Categories:
Pompeii: a poem
October 10, 2016
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