Triceratops
August 13th, 2009, 02:23 PM
Minerva is a fantasy figure I've created.
I wrote this poem last night.
It's a brief description in to her character.
Minerva
*Minerva: Goddess of Wisdom
Blazing eyes of glistening emerald,
Piercing the vision of sheer elegance.
Flowing tresses of golden coils,
Caressing the skull of poisonous imagination.
Exquisite lips tinted pure scarlet,
Pouring venom and treachery that trickle to one’s fear.
Forsaken resemblances hidden within robes,
Robes of sheer darkness and secrecy,
Mysterious shines throughout.
Perplexity shall wither perpetual,
Ruthless abiding by independence,
A choice for desired solitude,
Enthroning herself in isolation.
Cold-blooded glazed with a sinister soul.
Callous yet fatal ambitions,
She longs for the pleasure of misery in another,
Vengeance so bitter sweet.
Evil wit and the stupendity of intelligence she beholds,
Righteous for the malevolent creations.
No such pity in sight.
Seizing the blade of cruelty and anguish of such desire,
Catapulting to one’s potential rotting corpse.
Power and claimed superiority in one gleaming scythe,
A weapon for a merciless slaughtering.
Her secluded dose of amusement and joy,
Sympathy and a conscience are yet to exist.
Approval is of such futility,
Fighting for victory is one’s guilty pleasures.
At the lowering end of conquered battle,
Brings a fright and a threaten to her control.
Dependence on the enemy conveys a forfeiture of power,
The ultimate downfall one refuses to absorb.
Minerva shall not surrender.
I wrote this poem last night.
It's a brief description in to her character.
Minerva
*Minerva: Goddess of Wisdom
Blazing eyes of glistening emerald,
Piercing the vision of sheer elegance.
Flowing tresses of golden coils,
Caressing the skull of poisonous imagination.
Exquisite lips tinted pure scarlet,
Pouring venom and treachery that trickle to one’s fear.
Forsaken resemblances hidden within robes,
Robes of sheer darkness and secrecy,
Mysterious shines throughout.
Perplexity shall wither perpetual,
Ruthless abiding by independence,
A choice for desired solitude,
Enthroning herself in isolation.
Cold-blooded glazed with a sinister soul.
Callous yet fatal ambitions,
She longs for the pleasure of misery in another,
Vengeance so bitter sweet.
Evil wit and the stupendity of intelligence she beholds,
Righteous for the malevolent creations.
No such pity in sight.
Seizing the blade of cruelty and anguish of such desire,
Catapulting to one’s potential rotting corpse.
Power and claimed superiority in one gleaming scythe,
A weapon for a merciless slaughtering.
Her secluded dose of amusement and joy,
Sympathy and a conscience are yet to exist.
Approval is of such futility,
Fighting for victory is one’s guilty pleasures.
At the lowering end of conquered battle,
Brings a fright and a threaten to her control.
Dependence on the enemy conveys a forfeiture of power,
The ultimate downfall one refuses to absorb.
Minerva shall not surrender.