Persian Guard (part 2)

Bound to guard the simple things, but the heart is somewhere far.

You can read Part 1 of this poem here

Photo by McGill Library

“tasting knowledge…”

Now the palace is my duty and my prison,
I was banished by the light and Sun
from the realm of the living people
to the realm of silence, Moon and darkness,
to the Kingdom of the sleep.

Just me, the night, companion the cat,
sharing breeze felt only in the lonely dark;
sometimes I hear the others
but they are not real, maybe dead,
I read some poetry to them to no avail.

I’m biting an apple, tasting knowledge
once forbidden, hidden under blankets,
now it’s open, access vault and combination
at the fingertips to feel, to breathe, and drink
the liquid so admired but ultimately desired
like the oil, my lord, forgive us all.

Drinking knowledge, so much of it
it’s dripping from the lips
but I can’t stop to even breathe
tripping on the passages, they are tremendous
circling the mind like a scroll of many letters,
with countless shining faces to meet and greet.

Tip

Thank you very much for any help!

$1.00

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