Trifecta Entry Bacchanal


We once began our bacchanal

days of wine and roses; all.

‘Til the band did stop its play

if we had no means to pay.

Oh, the frenzied riot’s bloom;

Oh, the headache mid the tune.

When the day did dawn anew

we were forced see it through.

Riotous, emboldened, short

haunts the memory’s cavort.

Oh, the candle burned too bright

as it snuffed reality.

Purple, the passion, college days;

grain of alcohol we played.

Priest and Priestess; we were gay.

Died too soon, a withered fate.

Swept away in our bacchanal

hollow dreams in hallowed hall.

, , , ,

No comments yet.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

beth tremaglio

Poem, poetry, humanitarian, racism

Hannah Spuler

Bringing truth, goodness and beauty to children~ one whimsical (and sometimes silly!) story at a time.

MakeItUltra™ Psychology

Psychology to Motivate | Inspire | Uplift

Frank Solanki

If you want to be a hero well just follow me

Beachanny's Texas


%d bloggers like this: