A poem about the arrogance of youth, the vitality and the certainty that the world is ours for the taking, if only we could burn bright enough!

Poetry: The Bright Young Things 1

Livewire, raging fire,

Sparks flying everywhere;

Come burn in the flames of caustic desire,

Tell a truth, risk a dare.

 

We’re the Princes of the universe,

Born to rule, born to pave the way;

For the millions that come after,

In our hands shall the sceptre sway.

 

We’re the future of the race,

Burning brighter than rocket flame;

Racing to the top, masters of the game,

The pinnacle of the food chain.

 

We play the music of purgatory,

Dance to the tunes of hellfire;

Fighting tooth and nail to win an unwinnable game,

Come burn to the music of common fire.

 

We’re the Princes of the universe,

Born to rule, born to save the day;

Drowning in kaleidoscope visions of love and hate,

Our eyes all futures await.

 

We’re the predators and the prey,

The darkness before first light;

We haunt the dreams of Kings and slaves

Of dark and luminous minds.

 

We’re the Princes of the universe,

Born to die in glorious wars;

Born of the flicker of a candle that

Obscured the solar mark.

Poetry: The Bright Young Things 2

LEAVE A REPLY

Please enter your comment!
Please enter your name here