I am a shine from the oldest wine: A poem 

Did this my village? 

Did this, they pillage? 

Did this my orchard? 

Its saplings be butchered? 

I am a shine from the oldest wine, 

older than Chronos’ time 

Never weathered by scum or slime 

Always subject to my own rhyme 

Did they try to compel me; subjugate me? 

Who was behind the incessant treachery? 

I know, only true love begets me 

And I begat for loyalty! 

And there is no pronoun that can pronounce my name 

For I chose a tortuous game over fame 

Do you think that my will can be broken 

For their, to me, meaningless token? 

I tried not to castigate anyone 

who was not subject to the one from where evil spun 

The one who always endeavoured to have me eternally slain  

My eternal tribulation; I never wept if it went in vain! 

I am certainly not Allah; not even the alleged Christ 

I am Ouranos, no vice; my unacknowledged sacrifice is my device 

Two millennia have listened to their imposed and inflicted lies 

Do you realise, how truth always dies? 

Published by montecyril

Hi, I am Monte Cyril Rodrigues and live in Melbourne, Australia. I am a retired journalist. I have been diagnosed with schizophrenia. I've had voices and visions all my life. I think it is a spiritual experience, my doctors think otherwise. I am a deeply spiritual person and keep having experiences with otherworldly realms.

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