a Poem By Raquel Swann


The juice was tainted, I should not have drank from it.

The intoxicating aroma called to my pheromones,

in a way that cannot be explained by words.

Beads of sweat collected on my forehead

and dripped over my brow.

I became delirious.

Mere thoughts echoed

through the hollow halls

of my mind.

Voices of angels sangĀ songs

which heralded good fortune,

glory, and love.

In perfect unison I believed,

as this fever took hold of me.

Those, whose untainted sight

could see for miles what I could not

for inches, pressed warm compresses

against my head.

When this sickness broke,

I would never be the same again.



  1. percolatingpoetry

    I love the open nature of this piece as it allows the reader a chance to interpret it from many angles. Whether it is poison, an overdose or a bad relationship, what we ingest sometimes can be potentially fatal. Thankfully, there are still angels in this world. Nicely done, Raquel!

    Liked by 1 person

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